Sunday, October 14, 2007

Where is the love?

I think I've lost the ability to love or experience love. Well, I don't experience love because I don't think there's any coming my way. I really don't. There are people who know me who would probably tell me that of course they love me, but would do nothing to actually demonstrate that. In the absence of concrete evidence, I remain very skeptical. That's pretty much how I feel about god, too.

Anyway, I was sitting here thinking about love, and I've concluded that I don't love anyone except my husband. Maybe my mother, but our history is long, troubled, and very complex. Otherwise, I have to admit, there are people I like (not many), few I care to know well, and none I have any strong feelings for. None.

The friendships I used to have died long, slow deaths when my bipolar disorder went haywire. Nobody cared, or maybe they cared so very much, they felt abandonment and criticism were the only way to show the true depth of their feelings. Once I let go of those relationships for good, I made a conscious decision to stay the hell out f that kind of personal involvement going forward. My therapist and my husband told me I was making a grave and dangerous mistake--we all need friends and a solid support system. Apparently, I don't. I thought I would feel sick with longing for that closeness that friends can provide, but the reality is, I hadn't had that kind of relationship with anyone for close to a decade.

Now I am in the position of being faced with a dilemma. There is someone who has made overt attempts to draw me in as a friend. I like Elizabeth, I really do. She's exactly the kind of person I would have become friends with if my life had turned out differently. Now I just see nothing but complicated explanations or complicated lies ahead of me. It's not possible to be my friend without being informed of my brain issues. I have no intention of ever telling anyone else, ever again, that I have a brain disorder.

When I think about this issue, and I'm not articulating it well, I have to conclude that I am incapable of connecting with anyone beyond a superficial level. I'm not unfriendly, I'm not selfish, and I'm not throwing up walls around myself. I am, quite simply, disconnected. It doesn't bother me, but my therapist keeps telling me this is unhealthy.

No. Unhealthy is making yourself vulnerable to the emotional whims of other people and believing they'll respect that. Again and again I find the same thing: People are unreliable and disappointing. There's not much I can do about that except to keep myself safe.


Spilling Ink said...

I totally understand. My children aside, because that's completely different, I only really love my husband and my therapist.

Spilling Ink said...

And one internet friend.

May Voirrey said...

I have an Internet friend, too, and we were getting to be quite close, but she sort of vanished because she's in the process of starting a business. I try to understand, but I'm starting a business, too, while working my regular job. Even my husband is disappointed on my behalf. I think if you say you don't love people or are incapable of it, it really freaks people out--maybe because they realize that includes them and in a case like this, everyone wants to think the're going to be the special exception.

I think the people who read our blogs probably pay more attention to what we're trying to express than anyone in the 3-D universe. Are we that scary?

Spilling Ink said...

No, WE'RE not that scary, but the prospect of being abandoned again, (your old friends, my parents) IS that scary. I don't think most people know what it is to be very desperate, sick or somehow miserable or terrified, only to have their nearest and dearest throw up their hands and abandon ship. They don't know how much that hurts or how it makes a person so much more afraid. What's worse, is to be in pain and have the gall to complain one too many times and then stand there and watch in disbelief when they all scatter as if they suddenly realize they are in the presence of something disgusting and contagious.

Spilling Ink said...

Hmmm... I guess I'm a bit resentful. Oh, well.

May Voirrey said...

Preachin' to the choir, my dear. I hear you loud and clear.

Lynn said...

May, I have converted an old blog into an 'invitation only' affair. My email address is on my profile page. Drop me a line if you would like an email invitation.