I had been lonely in college. My relationships with others
didn’t seem to go deep enough to give me the
sense that I was making permanent friends and becoming part
of a larger community. I was unable to fall in
love. I could easily imagine disappearing without leaving any trace
in the world. This thought had a curious effect on
me: it depressed me and yet the depression itself was
so interesting a state for me to be able to
feel, that I was nearly elated at experiencing it. But
I think perhaps I am romanticizing my loneliness in retrospect.
Paraphrases from the memoir Final Analysis: The Making and Unmaking of a Psychoanalyst by J. Moussaieff Masson.