I found an extremely bizarre internet survey.

One day while browsing a normal, mainstream Internet survey website, stuck between your run-of-the-mill market research surveys and those fake ones about what kind of superhero you’d be, I found it. “Survey for the Insane,” was the title.ListOf questions wasn’t provided, and there was no indication what the survey was actually about. But something about the name drew me in. I could take one for the team, and play a fool’s game if it meant a quick fifty bucks.<br><br>I clicked on the survey. The first question was this:<br><br>*When do you need to keep in mind the laws of gravity?*<br><br>I was taken aback by how unusual the question was. “What? How am I, or anyone, supposed to know what that is? Like, as soon as I step out of my bed, I need to remember to not float off into space? What mental illness was this survey screening for?” were my first thoughts, but I figured I’d just go with that. I typed “as soon as I step out of my bed” and moved on.<br><br>*Was the “Survivalist’s Guide to the Liberal Credit Crisis” a real book?* The next prompt asked.<br><br>I had no idea what this book was. I did a Google search, which yielded nothing. I wasn’t sure whether I didn’t find it because the book was fictional or because I didn’t know the name well enough. I typed in “Yes, I think so,” and clicked “next.”<br><br>*Should I have concerns if I see a remarkable decrease in the amount of dust present on my bedroom furniture?*<br><br>Noticing the words “should *I*,” I figured this question was written by me, or at least in my point of view. I speculated briefly about whether I should just go along with the hypothetical scenario or if I needed to actually be concerned. I concluded that I wasn’t really sure, so I answered “yes,” and clicked “next.”<br><br>*What are my chances of seeing you at the Prom?*<br><br>I really wasn’t sure what this referred to. “The Prom?” What prom? Who was I being addressed by? I even looked at the title of the survey again, but I was still just talking to a website. I speculated briefly about whether I was being talked to by some sort of AI. I decided to just type in “0%,” figuring that if there’s any chance of AI being at a prom, I wouldn’t be there, because I’m an entirely different human being who just happens to be doing this survey.<br><br>The next question really freaked me out:<br><br>*What’s my name? Why do I need to know it?*<br><br>I stared at my monitor for at least a minute when I first saw these questions, and even longer once I realized how bizarre they were. They seemed to know me. I read them over and over as if expecting the words to change. “What’s *my* name? Why do *I* need to know it?” I really wasn’t sure what to make of this. The AI was talking to me specifically again, and I really wasn’t sure how I felt about it.<br><br>I finally broke my confusion when I noticed that the “next” button was grayed out. I needed to answer this question. I thought back to the previous question, which had addressed me as “you.” I really wasn’t sure whether I was playing along with a hypothetical scenario or actually talking to some future superintelligent program that, for some reason, cared about who I took to the Prom, but I figured if the questions were that personalized, I could just play along. I typed in my own name, “Simon,” and my reason for why I need to know it, which was “to introduce myself to people I don’t know.”<br><br>*How important is it that I take the medicine?*<br><br>This was another question addressed to me, and I was again unsure of the context. I figured I’d just play along with the scenario (while also reminding myself that I was talking to a website). I typed in “not very important,” and clicked “next.”<br><br>*Why do I need to take the medicine?*<br><br>I was a little annoyed at this point. I was promised a fifty-dollar Amazon gift card, not a mental health screening. I figured I’d just answer with whatever came into my head and get the damn thing over with. “Because you're insane,” I typed.<br><br>*What were my weaknesses as a child?*<br><br>This question really caught me off guard, since presumably I was the child. It wasn’t until this question that I really realized how unusual it was that all the questions were phrased as if they referred to *me.* Again, I wasn’t really sure how I was supposed to know this. I wasn’t really sure you could even know what someone’s weaknesses as a child were unless the child was talking about themselves or a licensed child psychologist was talking about a specific child under their care.<br><br>I figured I’d just answer as if I was the child, but I didn’t know what my biggest weaknesses were. I was really lazy. I was probably a bit of an alcoholic in high school. I still hadn’t learned how to express my feelings. I really wasn’t sure. I decided to just type in all my weaknesses, past and present, and hope for the best. I really wasn’t sure at this point whether the website actually cared about my personal weaknesses, or whether the people analyzing my mental state were faking my point of view on purpose.<br><br>As I typed my answer, I couldn’t help but feel really vulnerable. I was spilling all my deepest secrets to a website designed to determine my sanity. It was almost like one of those “inner demons” exercises where you write everything bad about yourself on a piece of paper, and then burn it. I didn’t quite have that same feeling, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if the last question turned out to be “Do you have any matches?”<br><br>*Will I ever be allowed to leave the mental ward?*<br><br>I stared at this one for a while, kind of freaking out.<br><br>“Am I in a mental ward? For real? Was this survey really part of some sort of “inner demons” exercise? Was my therapist watching me as I answered the questions? Where were all these questions leading if not a fifty-dollar Amazon gift card? Did they take my money? Why wasn’t I allowed to leave if I hadn’t done anything illegal?”<br><br>And then I thought about my other mental health problems.<br><br>“Is this all part of my anxiety? Am I really just talking to a website? Was any of this real? Was my therapist real? Did I have a computer? Was I even human? Was I ever going to be allowed to leave the mental ward?”<br><br>I just stared at my computer for a long time, occasionally reminding myself that I was just talking to a website, but also occasionally wondering if that was actually true. I really wasn’t sure how to answer. I didn’t know whether I was talking to a website or if I really was in a mental ward, so I wasn’t sure how to answer either way.<br><br>Finally, I clicked the “next” button, hoping it would lead to the final question. The next prompt read:<br><br>*Will I ever be allowed to leave the mental ward?*<br><br>I stared at this for at least five minutes. It just seemed so cruel, reminding me that I was in a mental ward. I really wasn’t sure what to do. I finally clicked “next,” hoping that it would go on to the next question, but the screen didn’t change. I clicked “next” again. And “next” again. And “next” again, but nothing happened. “Will I ever be allowed to leave the mental ward?” was the last question I saw.<br><br>I’m not really sure whether I really am in a mental ward, if I was talking to a website, or if I was just talking to myself. I’m not really sure what’s going to happen to me next. And I’m positive I’ll never get that fifty-dollar Amazon gift card.