Wednesday, March 08, 2006
The Preambles of a Trip to the Looney Bin
It has been proven time and time again that birds of a feather stick together.
And with that, I have an announcement.
If you are not, have not, or never will, experience a few temporary moments of insanity... I am just not certain that we can be friends.
A few weeks ago, I was suffering from every mental disorder in the DSM IV. I was completely and totally intolerable. I was, for lack of a better descriptor, a bitch.
Yet my friends took it all in stride. They listened to me bitch, they kept the giggles to a minimum when I was being completely unreasonable, and most of all... They did not take me on a 'spa vacation' to the nearest mental institution.
Really, I didn't completely understand exactly how they dealt with me...
And then it dawned on me... Last night, it was my turn to sit across the table from my dear friend as she had a mini meltdown. I listened. I empathised. I laughed.
The question was brought to mind... Where does it cross the line, from crazy but still functioning in the real world to that girl needs a one way ticket to crazy towne???
After much consideration... I have some criteria to judge one's C.Q. (Craziness Quotient)
-If we begin doling out any worldly posessions to our dearest friends... Or to strangers... One way ticket to the mental institution
-Conversations are being held with 'imaginary friends'... One way ticket.
- Inanimate objects talking to you??? Giving you advice??? One way ticket.
The rest can be handled with an intensive outpatient therapy regimen, also known as your dear friends. When you feel like you are loosing footing on the world, all you have to do is hold on tight and bitch really loudly. ¶ 6:16 AM
And with that, I have an announcement.
If you are not, have not, or never will, experience a few temporary moments of insanity... I am just not certain that we can be friends.
A few weeks ago, I was suffering from every mental disorder in the DSM IV. I was completely and totally intolerable. I was, for lack of a better descriptor, a bitch.
Yet my friends took it all in stride. They listened to me bitch, they kept the giggles to a minimum when I was being completely unreasonable, and most of all... They did not take me on a 'spa vacation' to the nearest mental institution.
Really, I didn't completely understand exactly how they dealt with me...
And then it dawned on me... Last night, it was my turn to sit across the table from my dear friend as she had a mini meltdown. I listened. I empathised. I laughed.
The question was brought to mind... Where does it cross the line, from crazy but still functioning in the real world to that girl needs a one way ticket to crazy towne???
After much consideration... I have some criteria to judge one's C.Q. (Craziness Quotient)
-If we begin doling out any worldly posessions to our dearest friends... Or to strangers... One way ticket to the mental institution
-Conversations are being held with 'imaginary friends'... One way ticket.
- Inanimate objects talking to you??? Giving you advice??? One way ticket.
The rest can be handled with an intensive outpatient therapy regimen, also known as your dear friends. When you feel like you are loosing footing on the world, all you have to do is hold on tight and bitch really loudly. ¶ 6:16 AM
