An Observation: When one is a person with a psychological disorder, who has disclosed having a psychological disorder, the people who are the most inclined to invoke one's being "crazy" tend to be the least inclined to make accommodations for one's "craziness."
That is, acknowledging my "craziness" is not the prelude to addressing the specific needs my psychological disorder has created, but is instead a way of deflecting accountability for ignoring them.
"Well, you're just CRAZY!"
Conversely, the people in my life who never even make reference to my PTSD manage to effortlessly accommodate it.
(Which basically boils down to: Don't trigger me by doing the things I have communicated are triggering.)
This ultimately means that the only time my "craziness" gets explicitly or obliquely mentioned is when someone is trying to make sure I know there's something wrong with me, in order to convince me—and reassure themselves—there's nothing wrong with them.
Thus, I try to bear in mind that being angrily dismissed as crazy is not personal.
Still. It stinks.
[Note: This has not been posted in solicitation of sympathy, but as an offer of empathy to those who have the same experience, in order that none of us need feel alone.]