Paul Auster's Wife

I've been reading Siri Hustvedt's book A Plea For Eros and the last essay in the collection, "Extracts From A Story Of The Wounded Self," has been rattling around in my brain for days.

She says:

"Around the age of eleven, I suffered from commanding inner voices and rhythms that terrified me with their insistence. They always came when I was alone, and they seemed to want to impose their own will on me, to press my body into their marching orders. The danger of madness seemed very real to me then, and I'm lucky they vanished. When I was twenty, I was struck with my first migraine, which lasted for eight months and then lifted. In the years that followed, it became obvious that my nervous system was unstable. I lived with auras that ranged from the very mild--a few black spots and brilliant white lights--to the more dramatic, such as a sudden seizure that hurled me against a wall. Once, I was subject to the very curious phenomena known as "Lilliputian hallucinations," during which I saw a small pink man and his little pink ox on the floor of my bedroom and believed they were actually there. I have also had several euphoric episodes before getting sick, and despite the inevitable aftermath, I recall those moments with pleasure. My vision takes on a sudden heightened clarity that makes me imagine I am seeing what I normally can't, and then, just as I remark to myself on the fantastic quality of my eyesight, I feel an overwhelming joy."

Fascinating stuff, no?