It *may be * a disorder, and there are pills for that. Look up Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder. I took Paxil for it but now I just suffer. Only another oh 10 years or so and I’ll be done with the whole thing.
and you can’t code either.
I think The Silence of the Lambs was funny.
Eh, nothing too out of the ordinary. Depression runs in our family—I have a mild(ish) problem with it at times. (It used to be much worse during PMS times, but for years now vitamins have taken the edge off. Go figure.)
I’m extremely trusting and not trusting at the same time. I generally like people and always try to make new people I meet feel welcome, and try to assume the best of people (until they prove otherwise), but I’m careful and keep private things close to my vest (which really, isn’t a bad policy). I guess I’m trusting on a more superficial level. I don’t know.
In my last job (the job from hell—I still have nightmares about it) my “trusting” nature really took a hit when people who seemed so nice (or at least not viper-like) turned out to be complete snakes. I’m used to people not being quite what they seem, but these people took the cake. It seemed like there was hardly anyone I could trust. I’ve turned into a semi-hermit since then (not totally, but I am not as trusting or outgoing as I used to be).
I can be very literal at times. If you say, “Do X, Y, and Z” and it seems obvious to do W as well, I may not do W—because you didn’t tell me to. (But sometimes I will—it just depends on the situation.) This can be a blessing and a curse. There are times I’ve anticipated things that others around me didn’t, because I didn’t assume that something would happen (because no one said it would). Other times, it makes me a total pain in the ass, fretting about obvious stuff.
I am oversensitive to other people’s “feelings”. Even people I have never met. To an obscene extent. I buy some authors’ books even though I no longer like their work because I am afraid of hurting their feelings. When I see someone who is sad, even on TV, I almost start to cry. Perhaps especially on TV, because there is a far broader range of suffering and sadness there than I usually see walking down the street or sitting in class.
Strangely enough, this bizzare behavior reverses when someone screws me over/hurts my feelings or someone elses. I make every effort to ruin them that I can think of. This can range from slashing someones car tires to ensuring that someone does not get hired for a job they want. I may even pretend to be their friend to open up more opportunities to screw them over as bad or worse than they did to me.
I am an asshole. I am a poor excuse for a human being. And I *deeply *resent myself for it.
I have polycystic kidney disease which isn’t a big deal, just a hassle.
I have serious space issues. The only people I can stand close to me are my parents and my daughter, and even then there are times when I cannot tolerate them being physically close. Add social anxiety to that and I’m the hit of any party!
I go through cycles of depression. I need therapy but don’t want to see a therapist. (One I went to fed me all sorts of garbage; I don’t want to be in such a situation again.)
I’m always late, even to work (I’ve been on time to work enough times to count on one hand).
I procrastinate; I don’t do things I know I should do.
If I have an opinion on something and I strongly believe in it, I come to the point where in my mind I am right and whoever disagrees is an idiot. No room for discussion. Unfortunately, I am opinionated on many issues, and I have very unorthodox views (or, the views may not be so unorthodox as much as the reasoning behind them).
I tend to be quirky and different from other people. I don’t fit any mold. I am who I am (usually - I’m good at putting walls and masks up in public).
I have also become very cynical and disillusioned. I have become morally ambiguous as a result.
Nevertheless, I am very gullible. It’s easy for people to take advantage of me.
My temper is like a volcano - all calm until a sudden eruption, then everything’s calm again. I have hurt many people close to me as a result (although things are very, very good now).
I believe myself to be royally messed-up, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I love people who are different (depressed, schizos, etc.) - I find them so enthralling, interesting, entertaining, thrilling, wonderful.
I don’t suffer from insanity - I enjoy every second of it.
WRS/Thû - I love this thread!
I’m obnoxious. And arrogant. But its really not that big of a deal, as I am better than most people.
I too truly enjoy very inappropriate and crude humor.
Oh, I must mention that I enjoy and revel in inappropriate and offensive humor (although appropriate and PC humor is fun too). I am very easily amused. And considering my low regard for humanity, I am also very easily impressed.
WRS/Thû - Arrogant people of the world, unite!
My brain doesn’t process or generate Serotonin properly, leading to OCD and chronic depression. Thankfully, with modern medication, they’re both under control. (Well, I do get Melancholy. But not at the near-suicidal level.)
My political views effectively leave me an outcast in mainstream American politics, these days. (Pro-2nd Amendment; Anti-Censorship; Pro-Birth Control; Pro-Gay Marriage; Pro-Death Penalty, etc. etc.) I’m a bad liberal, and a bad conservative. And I can’t be a true libertarian, because I like big government programs as much as I like the free-market system. I thought Ted kaczynski made some good points about politics and society in his manifesto, though I’m too much of a technophile to subscribe to it. (Or to sympathize with murdering innocent people for no reason.)
At heart, I’m sentimental and a hopeless romantic. Who rewinds movies back to watch the spectacularly gory parts in slo-mo.
Quiet, kind of a loner. Introverted escapist. Definate nerd/geek. Seeing “The Complete Encyclopedia of World Aircraft” almost made me drool.
I build weapons (conventional, and NBCs) on my flight simulator—to relax, to prove that I can, and because it pisses off the peaceniks who hate anything that smacks of militarism in the simulator. (How do you deal with hecklers? Sing better, and sing louder.)
I thought Colossus: The Forbin Project had an uplifting ending.
I won’t say that I believe that the ends always justify the means, just that they can. I’d like to think I’m a pragmatist, in the end.
And…I don’t go to conventions or hang out in furry costume bars, or anything, but I thought Mrs. Brisby was kinda hot.
I’m depressive. I feel a lot better now, but I know it will come back. Looking back, my life goes in big rolling cycles and the bottoms last a lot longer than the tops. I don’t want to take drugs for this.
I’ve dabbled in most of the more easily accessable after-school-special forms of self-destruction. I wasn’t that dedicated to any of it.
I’m tense. I’m uptight. I’m always worried. I pace. I get nervous and shifty when the house is dirty. I freak out a lot. I worry that my friends don’t like me. I blow up at my loved ones. I worry a lot about money- I don’t think I will ever be comfortable with it. I worry about everything. I can’t relax.
I have a cheatin’ heart. I’ve cheated on almost everyone I’ve been with. I’ve wrecked a lot of things with a few kisses. I fall in love with half the people I meet, and I want to have sex with everyone.
I have no work ethic. I work hard for the challenge of it sometimes, but I have no sense of duty. I get sick at the thought of working the same job for a year. I can’t imagine trudgeing to an office daily.
I make fun of people I see walking down the street when I am in a car or house and know they can’t hear me. I also make fun of animals because I think it’s so funny that they don’t get it.
I believe I’m owed a lot of stuff from the world just for being me. I think the world is not fair because everything is so much harder than it was when I was in school.
I’m not that great of a daughter. I screen my phone calls. I’m extremely afraid of letting my mom see my emotional core. I’m secretive and disconnected to my family. I really enjoy being far away.
My Dad wasn’t a great dad. Everyone thinks I have unresolved issues. I deny it.
I tell lots of stupid little lies. I add things for effect. I always choose the easy answer.
I have bad eyes and a gold tooth.
Basically, I’m sad a sad scared ball of energy.
I go through life questioning myself: “Do normal people think/feel this way?”
When things go wrong Mom asks, “Have you been taking your meds?” I tell her that there are no mgic pills!
Sometimes I hear things (voices) but I know that they are not real, so that doesn’t count!
So I’m a little bipolar, maybe schizophrenic, and a brain injury survivor. That doesn’t mean I’m not normal, does it?
If I was making a shortlist, I’d say prone to depression, paranoia (what do people really think about me? are they really my friends?), low self esteem and irritability. Lukily, these days I’m able to stop any of these traits from getting on top of me for too long at a time, but I have to keep a close watch on them.
I have various vison problems, like with depth perception and (sometimes) with eye/hand coordination. I never knew I had these problems (except for a pathetic failure at video games when younger) until I enrolled in art classes about a year and a half ago (for a graphic design major) and found out I’m horrible with hands-on art projects. I can do computer stuff just fine, because Photoshop and such have all those nifty mark points and lines to help you. But when it comes to the basic drawing classes and Ceramics—forget about it.
Unfortunately, we have to mount our projects on a matte board and I have to be extra careful when it comes to cutting it because my board can be extremely crooked and I don’t realize it until someone points it out to me.
So yeah, I often feel embarassed and stupid because I can’t cut in a straight line.
I’m depressive and I should be on medication but can’t afford it, so my medication comes in a can that is bought in packs of 6 or 12 at the grocery store.
I sometimes see or hear stuff that isn’t there, though I am generally able to do a reality check and determine what is real and what isn’t.
I spend about 18 hours a day on the computer and tend to ignore visitors to my home. It’s easier for me to talk to people online than in real life.
Most of my friends are from the wrong side of the tracks. They are even more fucked up than I am.
I like to write and most of my writing involves bizarre violent scenarios. In real life, however, I am not violent; I channel all my destructive urges into the stuff I write. (OK, that’s not so fucked up, it’s actually a good idea and more people should do it.)
About 1/2 to 3/4ths of my sexual fantasies are horrifically violent. But yet I can’t even imagine pricking my lover with a pin nor being pricked.
As other posters have said, other people’s emotions affect me more than they should. It’s hard for me not to cry when I see other people crying.
There are many different aspects to my personality. For a while I thought I had soulbonds, which is where you believe there are many people sharing one body, but now I just realize I have an incredibly over-active imagination.
I have trouble making and keeping friends. I care about them, I really do, but I can never bring myself to write or call or anything. I’m a bad friend because of this.
I’m paranoid.
Not to the point that it destroys me, but it bothers me.
I’m “mildly” bipolar (or so they say). Most of the time my demeanor is quite subdued and I can generally function well without medication. Therapy has taught me coping tricks to deal with it. So for the most part, people have no idea.
If I’m in a bad episode sometimes they’ll think something’s not right – either I talk so fast that they can’t understand what I’m saying, I don’t shut up and can’t sit still, but they chalk it up to too much coffee. If I’m in a miserable depressive cycle, I stay in and people don’t see me. If they do see me, they often comment “you’re too intense right now”. So generally, the times that I would most obviously be “sick” in other people’s eyes is when I’m keeping to myself and not observed by other people.
So really, there are people who have known me for years who have no idea that I occasionally have a really tough struggle with an intense mood disorder. Generally, my demeanor is so subdued, that rarely does anyone suspect anything is amiss.
Except for the physical pain, … that’s unusual?
I have been diagnosed with dysthemia, which is more likely environmental depression (or, more accurately, an increased “ability” to become depressed), and psychosis which has faded but is still present, though not to a degree that causes me significant difficulty.
I also block non-physical pain so I can’t feel it at the time.
I can’t get over a girl I knew in High School. Even though she didn’t dislike me, she made it clear she didn’t like me as more than a friend, and anyway, her friends drove a wedge between her and me. (Some of whom weren’t uncute and liked me, but weren’t as beautiful and sweet as her.)
So whenever I get a chance to meet another girl, my 31-year-old self says “sure, she’s cute and interesting, but I don’t really want to risk a long term relationship in case I meet her again.” Which I know won’t really happen, and I, well let’s just say I don’t think she’d be interested in me anyway even if she did meet me. But part of me says if she just gave us a chance we could have just given a big “screw you” to the world and been happy together.
On a positive note, it doesn’t stop me from pursuing relationships with those in the %99 percentile bracket of comeliness and personality, but I really should be happy with %75, at least for a casual relationship, you know? Especially if she likes me.