A Beautiful Mind?

I saw that movie with Jeckle and Hyde when it came out. Actually, I had seen it the week before with a couple of friends and was profoundly moved by it. Seeing it with my brother was moving in a different way. He acknowledged that it was, with a few necessary cinematic contrivances, an accurate depiction of how the schizophrenic mind works. In other words, how his mind worked.

My way of describing his mind is that he could connect-the-dots of a thousand (or more, apparently, now that we've seen the contents of his computers) disparate pieces of information and tie them all together in a spider web of intrigue that, somehow, made a beautiful pattern in his mind. Or, if not beautiful, at least cohesive. Somehow, it all made sense to him. And it made him mad that nobody else could track what he KNEW.

In the past year, he called me several times to relay some piece of the story (little old ladies following him in the grocery store, men tailing him in his car, surveillance planes flying over the house, police officers making suggestive gestures towards him) and, after a beat, ask, "So, do you think that sounds crazy?"

This was always a tricky question, one that he asked me numerous times over the years. And each time, I was faced with a decision: Do I shine him on and keep the peace? Or do I tell him the truth? Once upon a time, I opted for saving myself and would say bland, non-comittal things like, "Well, it seems like that could have happened." Or I might even actually agree. But as time went on, I became stronger AND I could no longer stomach lying so I started telling him the truth: "No, Hyde. That seems pretty farfetched. I mean, why would people be spending so much energy on YOU?"

This, of course, led to a "parting of the ways," which is why I hadn't really spoken to him for about six months before he died.

Of course, the movie did a lot for creating empathy for people with severe mental illness. And it made a strong statement about the power of love, something I'm all for. Unfortunately, when it comes to reaching out to, and reaching, someone with mental illness, love, most often, simply isn't enough. And the mind is an instrument of torture, both to the sufferer, and to those that suffer with her/him.