The scary and crazy thing about feeling crazy is what you can experience when you try to talk about it.
You can meet with:
A: disbelief that someone is actually treating you that way (possibly because the person listening has no frame of reference or personal experience, and thinks therefore you must be exaggerating).
B: disbelief that anyone (you) would tolerate such abusive behavior.
The first means that you’re perceived as a little crazy because you must be touchy and temperamental and making a mountain out of a molehill. Your charming and awesome mate couldn’t possibly behave as the person you’re describing, so you must have a skewed interpretation and view of his behavior.
The second means that you’re a little crazy if you’re so unhealthy that you put up with being treated that way.
Either way, you’re screwed. End result? You withdraw and isolate. You hide how you feel, and what life is really like for you.
Rarely, oh so rarely, will anyone listen with understanding, or an attempt to understand without judgment, knowing that they’re hearing something profoundly powerful and disturbing, and that you are really asking for help. You’re not just complaining, whining, or beeyotching, but asking for help. You’re asking someone to enter into your corner of crazy, and take a safe, non-judgmental look around the room. Their view and perspective might in time become trustworthy and believable to help you grow and heal, but first and foremost, it must be safe to let them in.
It’s a formidable battle to fight alone. A sane perspective, non-judgmental eyes, and loving voice? Priceless.