gotta have love, in or out of the closet

several years back i read two excellent books on manic depression that i got from my favorite-est used bookstore (sad-to-say now closed) on manic depression. one i read is called a brilliant madness, 1992, by patty duke.

here's a passage from the other one: an unquiet mind, by kay redfield jamison, 1995.

i love, love, love the way she writes, never mind the wisdom she imparts about illness. she could write fiction, fo sho. she is a professor of psychiatry at johns hopkins school of medicine and a "foremost authority" on manic-depressive illness. brilliant academic, she also knows of which she speaks since she suffers from it. (her self-revelatory book strongly encouraged me along the lines of closet outing.)

"we all build internal sea walls to keep at bay the sadnesses of life and the often overwhelming forces within our minds.  in whatever way we do this - thru love, work, family, faith, friends, denial, alcohol, drugs or medication - we build these walls, stone by stone, over a lifetime.  one of the most difficult problems is to construct these barriers of such a height and strength that one has a true harbor, a sanctuary away from crippling turmoil and pain, but yet low enuf and permeable enuf, to let in fresh  seawater that will fend off the inevitable inclination toward brackishness. for someone with my cast of mind and mood, medication is an integral element of this wall: without it i would be constantly beholden to the crushing movements of a mental sea; i would, unquestionably be dead or insane.

but love is, to me, the ultimately more extraordinary part of the breakwater wall:  it helps to shut out the terror and awfulness, while, at the same time, allowing in life and beauty and vitality. when i first thot about writing this book, i conceived of it as a book about moods, and an illness of moods, in the context of an individual life.  as i have written it, however, it has somehow turned out to be very much a book about love as well:  love as sustainer, as renewer, and as protector.  after each seeming death within my mind or heart, love has returned to re-create hope and to restore life.  it has, at its best, made the inherent sadness of life bearable, and its beauty manifest.  it has, inexplicably and savingly, provided not only cloak but lantern for the darker seasons and grimmer weather." p214-215

this stoney seawall brings to mind the literal (vs internal kay's talking bout) wailing wall in jerusalem and the wall constructed by one of the calender sisters (i think it was may) in book/movie "the secret life of bees" to deal with all sad things in her life. excellent movie, btw.