As the reader of my blog knows, the truth about my love life is its absence. My current “beloved” is Vlad. As is often the case, I feel his existence in my life is bigger than my existence in his. I hope such longings are not mere “obsessions” for a psychiatrists to analyze. I had a friend years ago to whom I was able to say, “Even if you are sick you need more people to talk to in this life than a psychiatrist.” Yet in my relationships I am forced to acknowledge the truth a therapist I had told me: a person must build up relationships based on more platonic basis (say, between the relationship between to heterosexual members of the same sex) before it is possible to date… So I have never told Vlad of my feelings.
I remember one of my favorite myths of Greek mythology is Narcissus and Echo. .. Narcissus falls in love with his own beautiful reflection while Echo cannot do anything but echo other people’s voices. He cannot really connect to her, and she cannot really connect to him. They are both caught in their own obsessions. I have often felt that way in love… the beloved has other things on his mind than me. If you believe Freud, we are all stuck in solipsism, torn into isolation, or to rephrase Thoreau “the mass of men live lives of desperate isolation.” To wish desperately to be known… I hope what I am writing is not too personal to write a Blog about.
I have tried to explain Bipolar Schizoaffective Disorder–that is my diagnosis–to people, and I never seem to succeed. What I say is that it is like living in a kaleidoscope. The “glass” that fractures my perception causes me pain but also an odd kind of pleasure–a unique vision which those who are “normal” cannot take part in. At the same time, I have gotten responses when I tried to explain my illness, “How can something that exists in your head only be all that upsetting?” Of course, Bipolar involves violent mood swings if I am not on my pills.
Still, all people long for love, I suppose. We all long to love and be loved.