In high school, I knew a girl who thought she was crazy. She was slutty and almost bit my finger off once, but other than that, she was as normal as anyone else I knew. However, she would tell anyone who would listen about her list of ailments and why she was crazy. People would listen and then tell her that everything she thought was wrong with her was because a) she was a teenager b) she was breaking up with someone at the time or c) overreacting.
Last I heard of her, she was still slutty, hadn’t bitten fingers off but was otherwise completely normal.
Well, obviously no one hear could actually diagnose her, but that does soound vaguely like borderline personality disorder or something along those lines.
For practical purposes, though, I’ve discovered that some people are just plain crazy . . .
I’m certianly not expecting an in-depth diagnosis for this, I was just curious if this was common enough to have a name.
Thinking about it a little more, it gets weirder. She always swore that she was crazy and needed help and I seem to recall that she had seen a shrink or two but they all said, “you’re perfectly normal.” At least one of my friends dated her and by all reports she was perfectly normal. The only thing I can imagine is that she wanted to fit in with us (had we gone to high school today, we’d be the trenchcoat mafia, but I always figured we were standard slightly gothy theater kids who maybe played too many role-playing games) so she pretended to be nuts.
However, given the wide availability of mood altering medications, I’m sure some doctor would have found an excuse to dope her up.
Umm. She needed attention. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. We all need attention. Pair that with drama queen (yep, I was a theater rat, too) and it’s almost inevitable that she’ll start making stuff up. Plus, I don’t know too many teenagers who legitimately don’t wonder if they might be “crazy” sometimes.
Sounds like a pretty transparent (hell, it was stated!) cry for help that went ignored. Also sounds a lot like me when I was in high school. I had a great teacher who snapped me out of that rut pretty quick by requiring me to volunteer at the local soup kitchen. Gave me something to do and something to think about other than myself and my angst. It’s really hard to maintain a middle-class suburban funk when serving slop to homeless veterans who are missing limbs.
FTR, I was diagnosed with clinical depression (severe) and an anxiety disorder (extreme), but can’t tell you if the same would be true of this girl.