The Social Self
Was he really going crazy? He could feel it with a bit of security; it was in his veins. It was the feeling that one got when the news of a loved one's passing was announced; the cold flush of blood that seems to drain life from the victim. Perhaps he couldn't tell. Perhaps he needed someone else's opinion on the matter, though it was hard to describe his emotions. Everyone around him made him feel that he had to live up to a stereotype. But it wasn't any kind of pressure forced upon him so much as it was himself who was the way that he was. He didn't want to be the person that was decided by the others. No. He just wanted to be himself. He simply gave that responsibility to the others because it was all too much. He could no longer think for himself. He was indeed crazy.