Am I Bonkers?

 I was holding a conversation with one of my non Tea Spitter friends, and we were discussing State of Mind (now renamed, "Sweet Madness"), Gardner, Ina, Assylums, and the peculiar habit of Gardner's that is, breaking glass.

She asked me, "but why does he do that?"

"Do what?"

"Break glass just to break it. It seems pretty shallow"

"...........I did mention he was mentally insane, right?"

I eventually DID get it through to her, that those who are mad don't need an excuse to do such things.


With another friend, she questioned me about "Thornwood" (A currently in-the-planning mode novel about a nurse in victorian England, and a most peculiar house call to a reclusive gentleman) and we were discussing the good Lord Sebastian Thornwood (of Thornwood Manor) and I said he hadn't left his estate for years.
Naturally, she asked why, and I had say 1) he is physically ill. And 2) he is mentally ill and 3) He isn't a dumbbell. The townspeople think he killed his fiancée, and he doesn't want to hear their criticism.
(I will admit, when she first asked, "Why does he stay inside? Doesn't he have a life?" My first instinct was to reply with, "no, actually. He is an early model of a tumblr fanboy, and spends all his time on there, reblogging images of Rose and Ten, Writing Sherlock Fanfics, Crying over Loki's past, squealing over various Supernatural and The Walking Dead characters and thinking up evil Moffat plots". But that would have been a lie, and I try not to do that...besides, that sort of fanboys scare me, and computers hadn't been invented yet).

But it got me to thinking, I love madness, so it would seem, by the amount of it I have in my novels.

In fact, I'm most at home writing madness, writing mentally injured characters with scars you can't see.

But this got me to thinking even more, does what we write about say something about ourselves?

I tried looking up on google something, but, for the first time, google failed me. I found nothing.
Has no brilliant mind ever wondered this? Am I the first? Oh how lonely this is....

But surely there must be some weight to this idiotic idea of mine? I enjoy writing about mad people, about people who have empty smiles, and have hidden scars. People who pretend, or sometimes don't pretend, to be ok on the outside, when on the inside, are a broken mess of tangles.

It makes me a little scared of myself, to be honest.

So, what do you think? Do you think the things we write about say something about the people we won't admit to being? Or am I just spouting utter nonsense? (In which case, I might be mad, which still proves my point....)

And what does your writing say about you, if so?

Chamomile, The Insane.

(Remember, all the best people are. ;D).