Used to be, I'd describe myself as crazy. Thought of myself that way. But I don't, anymore, because I'm actually fairly sane. To my lights. And I've discovered that people who describe themselves as mentally disturbed are (usually) somewhat pretentious.
Sure, there are people who have a disease, and are aware of that disease. I used to be one of those people. Depression is one of those things that you notice, when you have it. You might not care, but you know that there's something wrong. That's part of the point, really.
But most people who call themselves crazy aren't. There's just this romantic attraction to the idea. Makes you seem unusual, mysterious. There is a sort of a comfort in the idea that your brain works differently than the common folk, that the structure of your mentality is unique.
The thing is, it doesn't matter what goes in inside your head. No one else can see that; there's no confirmation. To everyone else, it doesn't exist, except by vague inference. And most people who call themselves crazy, they act fairly normal. To my eyes, anyway. Maybe I have a broad definition of the world normal. They act functional, at least.
So, with that in mind, I no longer consider myself crazy. Maybe I am anyway, but I don't think of myself that way. Because I'm fairly functional. Some people describe me as crazy, maybe, but my eccentricities don't interfere with my ability to interact with the world, do what I want to do.
I'm sane, because I act sane. The interface is stable. The matrix behind that, well, it's background, it doesn't figure into the equations. But, on the whole, I'm fairly stable, because I'm okay with the idea of being unstable. And with the idea of being stable. My identity doesn't rest on my disease.