I went out for a few drinks tonight at a local restaurant and bar to ease my loneliness. I was able to chat with a few people, so I suppose it served its purpose. When I went out, however, I hadn’t thought about the fact that I’m now on Seroquel, and over the past few hours I have been paying for it big time in terms of feeling extremely nauseated. This experience has shown me that I can no longer drink alcohol. It shouldn’t be too difficult to give up, though when I’m at my loneliest, I do like to go out to the bar; it is the only place I know where strangers will talk to me without judging me. All of the bar regulars are there for their own hidden reasons, and each one has his or her own painful story.

    My story is one primarily of loneliness. Ultimately, that is the reason why I end up frequenting such places. Of course there is more to my story than just loneliness, but I can deal with everything else, e.g. the loss of career potential, etc. without the alcohol. Oftentimes when I’m sitting at the bar I try to figure out why everyone else is there. Sometime it may just be “girls’ night out” or whatever, but of the faces I recognize, there is always a story. Most of the customers are men (no surprise there), and usually they are drinking away the pain of failed relationships. One the surface it may appear that they are trying to find women to date and/or take home for the night, but it is easy to see that underneath the façade they are drinking away their lives instead of drinking to start another one.

    So when I’m sitting in the bar, I’m also thinking about the importance of relationships in life. I know that I cause myself quite a bit of stress trying to find a successful career for myself, but the career isn’t an end in itself; it is just a means to an end. The end I’m pursuing is a meaningful relationship. It seems pretty universal that meaningful relationships are what bring meaning to one’s life. It may be difficult for everyone to find meaningful relationships, but the difficulty has reached an entirely new extreme for people with mental illness. What are they to do?

    The most common approach is just for the mentally ill to form romantic relationships and friendships with other people with mental illness. This may work to some degree, but it does have its limitations. Often in such relationships there is a lack of necessary support because each person is going through tough times and cannot properly be there to support the other person. Another approach would be for the mentally ill to form relationships with normal people, and while I have heard this can happen, my guess is that it is pretty rare that this works out. To those who have found a way to make it work, kudos.

    The default position in which many of us find ourselves is to simply forgo romantic relationships altogether and interact almost exclusively with our families. That places an extra strain and burden on the family, and while it is quite far from ideal, it is often absolutely necessary.

    Life with mental illness is tough. I can’t deny that. It is so full of loss and disappointment. As I sit here and write I have very few significant relationships, and I have decided to give up on romance entirely. I’m quite okay now that I have given up on trying to find a woman to love, but every now and then the fantasy of a life with a wife becomes salient in my mind. And after the initial jolt of hopefulness, all that is left is disappointment. And just when that occurs, it is usually time for another drink.