http://web.archive.org/web/20130716...-thoughts/chloes-thoughts/lessons-of-love.htm]
The irony, just as I start to write this, is that my wife comes into the room and says "I’ve been feeling suicidal today". Last week she said "Suicide still makes a lot of sense to me". It has been a year since her pseudocide, and things are pretty different now. But I am married to someone who has bipolar disorder, and who has had some pretty shitty life experiences. What else would I expect?
Yes, it is different for both of us. Well, better actually. I would say this has been the best year of my life. It is odd how impactful experiences engender changes which can not be forseen. It is the strangest life I have ever known. A year later I believe I can reasonably say that some changes are permanent. I am writing to clarify the what, the how and the why.
I think I have already described the chain of events that started with a phone call from Alicia last June (2012) to tell me she was about to kill herself. I won’t rehash that. I’ll just focus on my own emotional experience, and how the changes wrought eventually affected my BIID.
Firstly, I fully believed I was about to become a widow. The grief of this was intense. I had previously talked Alicia down from countless episodes of suicidality, including one actual attempt. She has a long history of this, starting at age 13. Why would I take the latest threat so seriously? Well, I take seriously any talk of suicide from anybody. People die. Her voice was different this time; I knew that she fully believed she was about to die. And when I got home I saw all the preparation; no impulse control issue here, all carefully planned.
This time I knew there was no way to talk her down. There was nothing to say that had not already been said. We did talk about why. Ten years of childhood sexual abuse, from age six, is a terrible burden to carry. It can not be erased.
The irony of my wife’s suicidal feelings today is that her father died a few days ago. The torture outlives the death of the perpetrator. The psychology is complicated. We have been talking about it extensively.
So, a year ago I found a place of love within me that I would not have expected to exist. It is the love that needs nothing back in return. Dead people have nothing more to give except a memory (and food for wild animals in Alicia’s case). I said goodbye to my wife and went to bed. The emptiness beside me was still there in the morning.
I had promised that I would not kill myself immediately following her suicide. In my mind I had planned the mourning for a year, most likely followed by my own suicide. I would not be having sexual relations with anybody at all, despite my polyamory.
Yes, I have been entirely asexual for a year. But what can I do with my intensely polyamorous nature and feelings? Well, I love my friends asexually with gay abandon (haha!). Am I going to stay asexual? I don’t know. I explained at the last intersex meeting how much I am loving asexuality!
After the pseudocide was finished, Alicia told me that the unconditional unselfish love I had shown by giving her my acceptance of her suicide was what had saved her life. Way to go in talking someone down from suicide, Chloe! That was either complete idiocy or sheer genius!
I was changed by this in that I learnt about my capacity for unconditional love without requirement for anything in return. The synchronicity of this with asexuality and the influx of people with disabilities desiring my friendship is amazing.
The irony of having huge dollops of love to give without needing any back is that you get a LOT back! Apparently this happens by magic.
Recently I was knocked seriously off kilter by the DSM-5 (no BIID therein!). I was not expecting to bounce back any time soon; but I have. The greatest help has been from my friends with disabilities. It was not necessary to say that I needed help. I don’t think I even mentioned to anyone that I was in need of help. I didn’t know that I could be helped. That all happened by magic too.
At this point in the post I stopped writing and went to bed. The next day I picked out some books to recommend to a friend who is having relationship issues. I randomly opened one of them, "Love Is Letting Go of Fear" by Gerald Jampolsky, at a random page. My eyes fell to a random paragraph:
"When we are feeling unloved and depressed and empty inside, finding someone to give us Love is not really the solution. What is helpful is to Love someone else totally and with no expectations. That Love, then, is simultaneously given to ourselves. The other person doesn’t have to change or give us anything."
When I first read this, some years ago, it seemed like a lofty but unattainable aspiration. I was too needy. I guess I learnt the hard way; but the truth of it is wondrous and beautiful.
I thank my wife and so many dear friends who accept my unconditional love.