I'm not crazy. I had me tested.

I love Big Bang Theory. And I secretly love Sheldon.

He's quirky and brilliant and likes things the way he likes them. He can not see life any other way than the way he sees it, but he is surprisingly kind at unexpected times, and authentically wants to make the world a better place. Although this statement would make that little nerve just under his eye twitch, I feel him.

He doesn't always realize he doesn't know best because his way makes sense in his head.

Knowing that, he makes sense in my head; because there's not a lot that can be done with Sheldon except to accept him. He's not crazy. His mom had him tested when he was kid.

She's from far East Texas, after all, and admits Sheldon got all that science stuff from Jesus. She only sees life the way she sees it, too.

My mom gets Sheldon's mom. She thinks she's funny. And I love that about my mom, that she sees so many different perspectives so different from her own.

Before I was born, when love was still young, my mom went to a concert with my dad. They sat on a grassy knoll, listening to a Jesus hippie band. The night wrapped as they had dinner with some Filipino friends, whose daughter later became one of my best childhood friends.

Later, when my mom left my dad, she had me tested. I wasn't crazy.

Since the move in September, I've wondered if my result changed and no one's had the chance to tell me yet. Truth be told, that was a big part of why I started seeing a therapist.

I thought I'd braced for the culture shock, the difference in political perspectives. I thought if I were seen as capable and professional in Dallas, I would be in not-Dallas. 

But no.

I had seen life the way I had seen it, thinking I could fit this new perspective into all the others previously accumulated. I was gobsmacked.

Even after having an emotional meltdown in front of my therapist (complete with white knuckles and adrenaline spikes because really, even meltdowns need accessories), nights of not sleeping, days of not eating, 3 moves in 5 months, and a nursing home debt comparable to student loans; it can be said I have been tested. 

And cool. I'm not crazy.