I’m there, and I’m not there. Like the glass in the window.

The BBC has featured an article, The people who think they are made of glass, about a strange psychological delusion where people think that they, or their parts, are made of glass.

Here is an excerpt (with my comments):

Lameijn [the psychiatrist] talked for several hours to the man [the patient], who confirmed that he felt that he was made of glass. Lameijn asked what this feeling meant to him, not wanting to distort the conversation by suggesting ideas of fragility or transparency, and after initial reticence, the patient began to open up.

He pointed to the window in the consulting room and asked Lameijn what he could see. Lameijn replied that he could see a street, some cars, more buildings, people walking past, and waited.

The patient said: “Ah! You’ve missed the glass in the window. You didn’t see it. But it is there.” He leaned forward, and said: “That’s me. I’m there, and I’m not there. Like the glass in the window.”

While the psychological/psychiatric aspect of this is extremely intriguing (and read more about it in the BBC article), what really caught me was the philosophical implication.

I’m there, and I’m not there. Like the glass in the window.







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