MANIAC - LOVE DERANGED

by Violet Shaw

  Her diagnosis was deep depression, burn-out, eating disorder – and beyond that, she was perceived to be in a suicidal state.

  Now, after she had received the diagnosis, she felt herself to be even sicker and considered the diagnosis to be incontrovertible proof that she was psychologically seriously ill.

  As a result of her illness, she also assumed a new role, against which she didn’t rebel because she was far too weak to do so at the time.

  Namely, she was now one of the seriously ill, and at the same time she felt that she was a victim of society.

  Severin could not avoid feeling an inner satisfaction. It was almost too good to be true, but in one stroke, she had really lost her greatest competition, her rival for Alex’s favor.

  She knew all along that Chloé wasn’t entirely all there, already since the first time they met.

  That time when Chloé looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights.

  She really had no feeling of self-awareness. She sensed that she would have a breakdown sometime in the future. She was simply not up to living, she was too weak and delicate, poor thing. And this was accompanied by her alienation from the world and, at the same time, her pathetic artist’s existence. How could one be so crazy and stupid to believe that one could live on one’s art alone?

  She was so unworldly somehow. Not to mention that she also lacked even the smallest shred of talent.

  But as always, it couldn’t have turned out better for her. Of course, she couldn’t mention anything in Alex’s or Valerie’s presence. No, if the conversation turned to Chloé in any way, she would act shocked and outraged, and express seemingly sincere sympathy.

  Lately Alex had indeed seemed to prefer Chloé to her, and she had been more than jealous, which she had not revealed under any circumstances, of course. No, she was far too intelligent and self-disciplined. Always protect your public countenance-- that was her credo.

  Feelings weren’t intended to be revealed to others unnecessarily; if they were, one would inevitably make a fool of oneself and would not achieve any of one’s goals.

  It was actually unclear to her what Alex had seen in Chloé. All right, one could perhaps describe her as attractive in a certain way, but rather as

  sexy-vulgar and primitive. But she wasn’t what one understood as beautiful in the classic sense. She was no Claudia Schiffer; she was lacking in style and class, and in the necessary self-control and utter coolness that attracts men and makes them dependent, and finally brings them to the point of falling in love.

  The few times that she had seen her, Chloé had always radiated something uncontrolled, behaving much as a child might have behaved. She was an overly emotional person and allowed the whole world to take part in her emotionality at any time.

  She was exhausting without let-up and possessed absolutely no self-control.

  Happily, Severin had already been instructed by her parents in her earliest childhood how decisive it was to protect one’s import, and that one was not to forget one’s social position at any time.

  And then Alex took Chloé on vacation to the south of France. It was unbelievable.

  She was infinitely wounded and enraged as she found out about it through a silly coincidence. But of course she hadn’t let on in any way that it bothered her; she simply tried to ignore it and smile.

  And now that Chloé was no longer here, one could recognize the fact that she had clearly chosen the better strategy.

  In the last several days, Alex had contacted her more often during the day; he was intent on seeing her. She wanted to let him dangle a little, since without her rival Chloé, the balance of power between them had moved in her direction. She didn’t have to fight for him anymore; rather, he was now dependent on her. At this thought, she secretly celebrated.

  Shortly after Chloé’s admittance to the psychiatric clinic, Valerie accidentally encountered Alex and his friends while she was out and about in the evening.

  She could watch him from a distance, engaged in his typical night-time pursuits. As usual, he sat at a table in a nightclub surrounded by his friends and various women who telegraphed their interest.

  The table as always was covered with Champagne and vodka bottles, and since everything was so funny and happy, and because he attracted the greatest attention of all the gregarious participants and onlookers to himself, more bottles were ordered with regularity, no matter whether there was need for them or not.

  A little flaming brandy or rum always guaranteed a certain atmosphere and attention.

  Nothing in his life had changed, at least outwardly.

  But in a short conversation with Alex, Valerie could tell that he was seriously concerned about her friend Chloé since he had heard about her admittance into the psychiatric clinic.

  It seems almost as if he had a guilty conscience regarding her serious illness and blamed himself indirectly that he had engaged her in a hopeless, at least for her, affair, and in addition had persuaded her to indulge in drugs with him:

  “It is really quite bad; I worry about Chloé. I had never thought that she was so sensitive and vulnerable.”

  Then his countenance became very thoughtful in the middle of the crush of the party and the throng of people.

  “And at the moment, one can’t even help her. We text with one another now and again, but when I call her, she doesn’t answer and naturally doesn’t call me back. Really tragic.” He shook his head resignedly – as if he were trying to focus yet again on the tragedy of the situation.

  Valerie couldn’t add much to what he had said. She too had only exchanged text messages with Chloé and her attempts to reach her by telephone were also in vain.

  “And then in the meantime, it gets to be a little too far out with her. The bit about her suicide attempt alone; no, that’s simply too much for me. One doesn’t even know what one should do in such a situation. It’s good that she has professional help now. But it’s simply too much.”

  Pardon me? Suicide attempt? Had Valerie heard correctly just then? She didn’t know anything about it.

  An ice-cold shudder ran down her back. She was deeply shocked and affected, but tried not to let Alex see her reaction.

  Apparently he had more information than she did herself.

  Had her girlfriend really tried to take her own life? No, she hadn’t counted on that, no matter how difficult her situation may have been.

  But it did seem plausible, since she couldn’t quite comprehend the story of the commitment to the psychiatric clinic after the train ride.

  Yes, something grave must have happened, to cause her friend to end up where she was now. One didn’t become committed to ongoing treatment in a clinic because of a little depression or panic attacks.

  Alex abruptly roused her from her thoughts. “Here you are!”

  He handed her a glass of Champagne and they clinked glasses: “Enjoy the night!”

  He had already found his way back into the rhythm of the party.

  Chloé’s voice on the telephone sounded very serious, almost as if life itself had gone out of her. It was worrisome.

  The few sentences that she spoke sounded as if they had been memorized. Dull and delivered in monotone.

  “Valerie, please don’t worry about me, although I’m not feeling very well. But I’m finally where I can really get some help. I needed a longer break from Frankfurt in general and from life in particular. I have to regroup and find myself again. I’ll be in touch!”

  After this phone call, she hadn’t been in touch with Valerie in over a month. Nor did she return text messages or telephone calls.

  Valerie worried more and more about her girlfriend, who was sitting out in the middle of nowhere, in the psychiatric clinic.

  My goodness, how could it have gotten so out of hand with her?

  Actually she was always the one who enjoyed life in full. She had missed nothing in the preceding years, neither men, nor sex, nor parties.

  Apparently her own life outgrew
her ability to cope; she couldn’t keep up with the tempo.

  And what was that about the suicide attempt that Alex had mentioned? Was that actually true or had someone simply added something to a dramatic situation to make it even more theatrical?

  Perhaps it was Chloé herself who wanted to blackmail Alex and make herself seem more intriguing. No one else whom Valerie knew would have come up with such an idea, but Chloé had over time tried again and again to make herself interesting through her psychic pain – as complex as it might sound; she really did suffer, but played on her symptoms to a great degree.

  Who, in possession of a shattered psyche, would have the nerve to talk about it incessantly, almost in fact, philosophize about it?!

  Although it did sound incredible, Valerie harbored a secret suspicion that Chloé wasn’t only trying to make herself seem more interesting because of her illness, but that she believed, even as incredible as the thought was, that her illness lent her something exceptional.

  Yes, she was indeed exceptional now -- in the sense of exceptionally ill.

  Everybody else had more or less interesting jobs, partners or lovers by whom they could define themselves; but in comparison, Chloé had only her illness, which was obviously not really tangible. She was unaware, apparently, that because she continually informed her friends and

  associates about the prevailing state of her emotions, she was met with disapproval from time to time, or even caused them to attempt to disassociate from her. Valerie had questions upon questions that she would have liked to ask her friend, but unfortunately couldn’t. She had broken off contact for an indefinite period of time.

  After a long time of waiting impatiently, Valerie finally received a text-message from Chloé:

  “My dear, I’m feeling much better. And I’ve met someone here with whom I’ve fallen in love. Nevertheless I still need some time for me. I hope you’re well and that we can see each other soon! Lots of Love . . .

  Valerie was overjoyed finally to receive a sign of life from her girlfriend. She had been deeply worried recently and had been waiting impatiently to hear from her.

  Fortunately, she was feeling a little better. And she had also met someone new. But who on earth could that be?

  After all, her friend was in a psychiatric setting. Could she have gotten involved with another patient?

  That couldn’t possibly be true. Valerie had feelings of foreboding.

  Even the fact that her friend didn’t want to talk with her on the telephone anymore and that she had not given her more details about her new, ominous acquaintance was not only atypical of her, it also raised

  Valerie’s suspicions that her affair was probably not socially acceptable. But no matter, the important thing was that her friend was better and a new love – whoever he might me – would certainly provide new energy and will to live in this difficult time.

  All day long in her office, Severin had been having trouble concentrating. Her thoughts kept circling back to the last telephone conversation with Alex. First, she couldn’t understand at all why he wanted to postpone their date, since they had grown much closer in the last few months, and it had been his suggestion that they fly to Paris together.

  Most recently, Severin had finally recognized that she had begun to occupy a more important place in his life, especially since Chloé disappeared.

  Nothing better could have happened to her.

  And as she had expected, Alex had immediately fallen into her arms. In the last few months he had called her daily and they had seen each other regularly, twice a week at a minimum.

  Her lack of compliance, paired with her self-determination, also finally seemed to be reaping rewards as he surprised her with the trip to Paris, scheduled for the following weekend.

  It was a symbol for her; finally it had reached the point where he was ready to lead a life together.

  Leaving his mousy-gray girlfriend -- in the long- or short-term – was simply a formality now, as far as Severin was concerned.

  Her great pleasure was enhanced by a feeling of triumph, for at the end she would be the radiant winner thanks primarily to her fighting spirit and her skill.

  But since last evening, her dream had faded away; at almost the last second it had burst like a soap bubble in the air.

  It really can’t be true, but apparently she had underestimated the mousy-gray girlfriend. She had simply beat her to it, shortly before she had reached her goal.

  Timing was really everything in life, and success for her meant making the right decision at all times.

  And she hadn’t made the right decision, which would have been to give the coked-up banker his walking papers earlier, since he had never openly declared himself to her. What did she really expect from him? He was as helpless as a baby, continually needing a baby-sitter in the form of his mistresses, in addition to loads of drugs and alcohol and who knows what other kinds of substances he needed! One can’t really dominate cokeheads since they’re always more dependent on drugs than on other people.

  And Valerie had always, even if indirectly, tried to warn her about him. But all of her warnings were in vain:

  “He’s a coked-up giant baby; find yourself another man!” Valerie had tried to drum into her, but unfortunately her efforts to separate her from him only spurred on her drive to conquer.

  And despite that, Severin was as angry as she could be and couldn’t concentrate on her work at all.

  He was also somewhat cowardly and faint-hearted in that he sent her a text-message that he had to cancel their weekend together in Paris because of an – and this was the most ridiculous of all – “important professional appointment,” that is to say, “deal,” that he had to close.

  Severin’s ears immediately pricked up. Excuse me, he wanted to cancel the weekend because of such a flimsy excuse?

  She wouldn’t allow that to happen, and she had called him immediately. The least he could do was to tell her in person on the phone.

  At first he sounded very happy to hear her voice on the telephone, but then began to hem and haw about having a great deal of stress at the bank and not knowing how he would manage to deal with it all.

  But Severin could sense that behind his excuses he was hiding more than simply the fear of flying to Paris with her.

  “Come on, Alex, what’s really going on with you?”

  “Nothing; I just told you, nothing!”

  “Yes, but I don’t believe you! What’s really the matter?”

  “I’m not sure that you really want to know!”

  What were these stupid games supposed to mean? Did he only want to play for time, to divert her from the topic, or was he simply stoned again?

  “Listen, I’m a big girl and because of that I called you. I want to know the reason for your behavior!”

  “Alright, you really want to know?”

  My goodness, the guy could drive one crazy. Thank heavens that she didn’t work in a bank, with these eternal games, these stupid tactics and laughable attempts at self-importance. It was nothing but smoke and mirrors.

  “As I just said, dear Alex: Yes!” Her voice now sounded bold and aggressive.

  “Alright, this is what you wanted. But the situation is this . . .,” and he paused for a length of time, “I’m going to be a father!”

  Excuse me? Had she heard that correctly? She was unable to say anything at that point; the information had left her speechless.

  “Severin, are you still there?”

  “Well, you have a nerve! When did you intend to tell me?” Severin had almost lost control, she had to collect herself not to scream aloud:

  “And with whom, please? Who is the mother?”

  “Well, my girlfriend, of course!”

  “Naturally, your girlfriend, whom you had forgotten about the whole time we’ve been together. Very nice that you suddenly remembered that you had a girlfriend! When actually had you intended to break the happy news to me?”

  “But I just told you!”


  “Yes, after I forced you to!”

  “What is this? Are we playing little games here, what, when, and who said something at a certain time?”

  “Stop twisting the facts; you’re the one who always needs to play games, with me, your girlfriend, with Chloé, and who knows who else!”

  Severin didn’t have any intention of being friendly with this monster any longer and of ignoring his double-life.

  “Severin, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. The pregnancy was an accident, I’m as unenthusiastic about it as you are, believe me!”

  “Oh, did you tell your girlfriend that, too?”

  “Severin, calm down now. We’ll find a solution for everything; let’s talk on the phone tomorrow, okay?”

  “I believe it would be better if we never talk on the phone again!” Severin’s voice sounded embittered.

  “You can’t be serious! Everything is only half as bad as it seems; you’ll see, nothing will change between the two of us!”

  This idiot really has a nerve; he thinks that he could actually keep her as his mistress; he is really suffering from drug-induced delusions!

  “I am deadly serious, Alex, and for me, almost everything has changed now!”

  “Come now, you don’t want to break up on the phone; that’s such bad form!”

  “Yes, I do indeed! And it’s perfectly fitting in light of your own ‘bad form’!”

  After that exchange, Severin, in a complete rage, hung up immediately. Alex should go to hell; she was finished with him.

  And thanks to him, she couldn’t concentrate at all today; she was completely distracted.

  How could she have wasted so much of her time on him?

  More and more often recently, following Jason’s move from Frankfurt to Zurich, Valerie had to admit that she missed him. It had been a long time since she had come across someone who was even nearly as interesting, cool, good-looking and fabulous. Of course, there were still plenty of other men, predominantly bankers and lawyers, who expressed an interest in her, but she wasn’t interested in them.