Damn, That's One Crazy Chick

I know this blogger, and I won't mention names but hers kind of rhymes with Crazy.
I have been reading her blog on the sly and she's sort of coming unglued, right before my eyes.
It appears to be the manic side of manic depression, but now they call it bipolar, so let's just say her bipolar bear is wayyy out of hibernation.
I am sure she is a high functioning bipolar, she's certainly an intelligent woman, it's just remarkable to see how she writes with her brain's high beams on.
So now I am worried that I may come unglued one day and people will read my blog and think, "Sheesh, she's really flipping out."
Okay, I have no diagnosed mental illnesses, save for a little generic depression now and then, but one never knows when one may snap.
After a year of loving a borderline personality, I have to admit I have been pondering mental illness and why lunatics seem to like me so much.
I like to think it's because I am eccentric, iconoclastic and accepting toward other eccentrics, even the nutters. At least that's what I like to think.
But then I read a blog where I see someone wigging out and I think, "Damn, she needs some serious meds adjusting."
Should I say something? Nahhh. I am not a therapist, and for all I know she's perfectly sane.
But then I am no cinematographer, either, but I can tell when a movie looks dark.