Sure that isn’t disassociative TYPING syndrome? I’m it’s poster child.
Crazy? Yes. But GOOD Crazy, not BAD Crazy. There IS a difference. I had an ex-g/f’s mom ask me if any of my family was crazy. I replied, “Clinically?” She shut up. She never did like me. Sister is Bi-Polar, Borderline Personality Disorder, plus one or two minor issues. She has all the fun in the family.
Never actually been legally deemed crazy, but by my own admission I would have to say so. I’ve also heard that depending on the number of hits of acid you’ve taken you that you are legally insane. It varies state to state anywhere from 2 to 15, but I could be legally insane by that definition in all 50 states simultaneously.
I’ve actually always been crazy though. Not in conventional terms. I don’t name my pencils, shout at the oven, or sing show tunes driving down the street in reverse with a parasol hanging out the window. That would be cool tough. I’m crazy in a more harmless sort of way that mostly seems to manifest itself when I least expect it like in line at the grocery store, on the pot in a public restroom, or anytime I see a midget.
I’ve always been crazy, its kept me from going insane.
Completely bonkers… but not in any way that would get me institutionalized… I have done all the adapting I am going to, it’s up to the rest of the universe to adapt to me!
I’m not crazy. I was suffering from a major depression* many, many years ago (that was a bummer 
) and I sought treatment and recovered over a couple of year period.
Shortly thereafter I experienced a psychosis semblant condition that occupied the better part of a year and a half, complete with audio and visual hallucinations, attacks of paranoia and inappropriate logic (“What brings you here today?” “The bus.”), but I realized what was going on and took appropriate steps to deal with it. Imagine experiencing all those symptoms and knowing what was going on - knowing that although I could clearly see the giant lizard consuming my physics TA head first, it wasn’t really happening. Trippy year.
Anyway, I got over that and since then, and even during then, I believe most people who know me would describe me as rock steady in the sense of my commitment to what I do and honoring obligations (I have to include this awkward language because I experience a neurological condition that results in my hands and limbs not being exactly rock steady - it has nothing to do with my mental state). I’m really a pretty happy (* see above), feet on the ground sort.
Or maybe I am nucking futs and just think I’m OK.
I don’t think so.
Ringo You sure ‘bout that? Do you live somewhere that Ol’ Tim Leary’s decomposing body could be getting into the water supply?
Crazy…
I was crazy once.
They locked me in a rubber room.
It was cold in the rubber room.
I froze to death.
Then they burried me in the ground.
In the ground the worms crawled in and out.
The worms drove me crazy.
Crazy…
I was crazy once.
Say this over and over to your friends while they’re tripping, it’ll drive 'em crazy.
Crazy…
I was crazy once…
I’m with the “high-intellgence:better chance of being nuts” camp. Of course being a periennial honors student at the same time as being utterly off my rocker might make me tend to think that way.
Everybody knows I’m a bit “off,” but I manage to hide those peculiarities that could get me sent away.
As a side note, 66% of guys I’ve dated have been certifiably crazy … and had the certificate to prove it. I’d like to point out they were this way BEFORE I dated them. I think the other 33% were just good at playing halfway normal.
I have been told by others that I, at times, act a bit “crazy”.
This due to talking to myself, and then answering, as if AS another person. It’s just a way I problem solve certain tasks. But for those who don’t know me, and I spark up a conversation with myslef, it might look a bit strange.
My ex-girlfriend’s mother was visiting once, while I was rewiring the entertainment surround system, and trying to “daisy-chain” everything together (based off the single wall plug I had in the corner). I started a conversation about the best way to go about it. I debated myself about that direction, and then argued with myself a bit more. I stopped for a second, or two, and I could hear in the background my girlfriend’s mother saying to her, “…but, he IS really talking to himself? There’s nobody there.”
My girlfriend, who knew this of me, had a great follow up. “I know, but I still love him. He’s so far out of his mind that he’s back in it.”
I found later on, that line came from some comedian, or something. not sure.
Also, is this the same “Anubis” I know from another forum?
Jet Black
I am an escaped mental patient.
At the time of my escape, my official diagnosis was paranoid schizophrenic
I’m not on any psych meds, and I don’t see any psychiatrists. (I do not see any pink elephants either, but given the choice I’d rather see the pink elephants).
I am God and I hear the voice of God. (I don’t think I am Jesus Christ. I have never gone by that name in this lifetime).
I know how to save the world. Except for the part about convincing the rest of its inhabitants that they oughta follow my lead on this, I haven’t finished figuring out that part yet.
I’m part of a politically active contengent of former mental patients (many of us involuntary at some point regardless of whether we started out that way). Our contengent is militantly against forced treatment. We have the right to choose to be untreated if we aren’t committing crimes. We even have the right to choose to be untreated if we ARE committing crimes, as long as we accept prosecution on the same basis as anyone else. Take your forced treatment and shove it.
I think marriage and monogamy, materialism (dialectical or otherwise), the hours/minutes/seconds + months(of unequal length)/years starting ~2000 years ago, representative democracy, realisms based on rationality and empirical evidence, and either rigid belief or rigid disbelief in anything (even if you think you know it from personal direct experience) are all flawed and should be discarded in favor of better models which I have, of course, worked out in considerable detail.
I’m a heterosexual sissy. And a radical feminist.
I’m a database programmer who thinks FileMaker Pro is the tool for the job until you exceed 250 concurrent users or 2 Gigs’ worth of records, at which point you put the data in Oracle or SQL and continue to use FileMaker Pro as your front end. I think there is nothing you can’t do with FileMaker. I can have it brew your coffee for you in Melbourne based on coffee prefs stored in Montreal while it backs up your hard drive in Seattle. I think you should use FileMaker in lieu of your email program, your word processor, your spreadsheet. Perhaps even your operating system. It does their functions better than they do them natively, once you know how to set it up. (Photoshop, however, is still safe).
I’m a Mac user. Mac rules, but the presence of OS X isn’t necessary to make that claim. MacOS 8.6 is the state of the art for nonserver operating systems. It is more usable than MacOS 9.x, MacOS X of any vintage, NT, XP, 2K, Linux, Solaris or BSD. I’d rather reboot occasionally than deal with the shortcomings of anything else.
I like LSD…a lot…(mescaline isn’t too bad either)…
I’m looking forward to being an old person. I hope I live a long life so I can be 90, 100, 110 years old. I want to be really ancient for awhile before I die. I would like to found a religion when I’m really old. I’m gonna grow a long white beard and intimidate the fuck out of everyone younger than me. I’m going to wear nice flowing robes and carry an attractive staff and point my bony finger and by then I’ll have a better handle on how to manipulate media attention. And THEN I’m gonna save the world!
What if Charles Manson had been around during the 80s rather than the 60s? What would he have picked for Helter Skelter? Hungry like the Wolf? Take on me? * Let’s Go Crazy*? Would Sharon Tate be what Sally Field became? Would Julia Roberts have been chopped to bitsies while living in Richard Gere’s house? (or was that the plot to Pretty Woman II, the return)
Judge for yourself. I can think this way or feign normality for short periods of time.
Haven’t you heard? In the south we’re proud of our crazy people.
Well, I did the alternate school thing for a while, but managed to get back to regular high for grades 11&12. I’m pretty intelligent, so they tell me, high IQ and all that. I’ve got a fairly vivid imagination and I think I could be called the creative type. Besides posting, I write a lot of poetry and I like to do crafts. I read voraciously ( doesn’t help my spelling a bit!), and I enjoy acting. I guess I’m a bit “off” about animals. I do keep a rather extrordinary amount of pets. As a teenager, I was sure I was nuts, but now I see it as immaturity, coupled with theatrics. I’m still a real show-off, but not to the point that it could be called unhealthy.
The voices made my type this
They are my friends
My only friends
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
To respond to the title… waves paw furiously in air ME! ME! ME!
Well, what do you call a catnip-addicted cat that frequents odd message boards like these?
I thought as much…
i’m crazy. isn’t it nice being crazy? i man if so many of us here are crazy, than it’s a normal thing. the other people that aren’t crazy are abnormal.
But we’re never gonna survive unless…
We get a little crazy. – Seal – “Crazy” 
I do all that shit. * shrug *. I’m the best friend you could dream of. Who cares that I’m crazy? I like being nutz/weird. Sue me.
I’m fairly sociopathic. I wouldn’t hurt someone I knew and cared about but I know that, if I could get away with it, I would kill many people for things that most people would not consider worthy of such harsh punishment. I also feel that I would probably be capable of pretty horrible atrocities to further my causes if I somehow reached a position of absolute power.
What a normal question for me.
YEP. My dicks in a can of Planters.
[Patsy Cline] Crazy…I’m crazy for feelin’ so lonelyyyyyyyyyy…[/Patsy Cline]
Yep. I’m bonkers. Lulu. Off the deep end. Off my rocker. Insane in the membrane. My elevator doesn’t reach the top floor. I’m not firing on all four thrusters. I’m one brick short of a load. A couple fries short of a Happy Meal. Tetched. Nutso. I’ve got all my flash cards, but the rubber band that keeps them all together is looooong gone.
They’re coming to take me AWAY, ha, ha, They’re coming to take me AWAY, hoo, hoo, hee, hee, ha, ha…