Sylvia Plath

I haven't been the same ever since reading the Bell Jar.

The second part felt like running off the side of the earth.

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The girl who wanted to be God

The second part does not justify the whiney, entitled, stupid little bitch she was the entire first half. She deserved her torture.

She wasn't exactly happy in the first half either. She mentioned that the last time she was happy was as a kid. Are you claiming to be any different and you never feel bad about anything even in your subconsciousness?

what do you mean. are you talking about that German philosopher who used his freshly printed philosophy books as a stand to hang himself off of?

I'm an adult and realize the world isn't always pleasant. I don't go around making everyone else's life miserable because of it. Nor do I whine and bitch all the time.

>are you talking about that German philosopher who used his freshly printed philosophy books as a stand to hang himself off of?

That's poetic.

If you tolerate this

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philipp_Mainländer

You are an adult who doesn't believe in depression?

Yes, 'twas a Manics reference of a diary entry by Plath at 17, very good

I'm an adult who believes 99% of depression is misdiagnosed whining.

This. "Depression" is nothing that getting up bright and early and doing a hard days work won't fix. You will feel accomplished at the end of the day and motivated to do it again tomorrow.

The worm is already uncoiling and is nibbling his way to your surface. Make sure you keep up that healthy attitude.

>this is what Calvinists actually believe

I liked the first half better. I thought it was more interesting.

This guy is a hero. Not only did he use his own books to kill himself but he did it on April Fools Day. That's how you do it.

You could've just said you've never had depression and saved that user a lot of time.

cringe

She's cunting just standing there.

I find your posts unpleasant and furthermore they sound an awful lot like someone who is bitching and whining

I agree. The treatment part of the book felt monotonous, and only partly by intention I'd say. The ending part by the time she had started to feel better was as good imo

>ywn save her

you're at least making my life miserable rn

Sylvia Plath is fucking shit. The only people who like her are women and nu-males.

>tfw

I'm gonna have to agree with you. I've been throgh more than most people I've met so far in life. Personally I never like to talk about these things or whine to anyone. I love my friends, they love me they know I have problems, I never take them out on anyone and I keep a healthy, productive etiquette.

I may suffer ( im gonna break what I said a few lines above and say that I was raped at 13 ) and living is hell. Not even my family knows what happened and I hate them ( mother is a phsycho ).

It doesn't matter tho. What is gonna happen if I "open up" myself? Sympathy? Empathy? No, I dont want people/ my friends to like me out of pity. I want to be loved for my average qualities.

Life is life, so what?

I love how this post deploys a novel verb but in context it makes perfect sense.

There are probably other things that can come from sharing and opening up with people you love than just empathy/sympathy or pity. Though I understand what you mean, I think it would also be smart to realize that your comfort in your insular ways is not the only way to take.

Thanks, you are probably right. I just never had emotional support by anyone (and probably family would offer that in normal circumstances).

Funny thing is how the person im in love with this period is the exact opposite and is really "open" about such things.

Any advice is more than appreciated by me.

I don't know you or much about you so I can only safely say that since you have something you want to interact with that COULD offer you a way to try new things (opening up, building a support system) give it a go!

This. When I get up at 4:00AM and work my 12 hour shift packing boxes for a mail-order food service, all my personal desires are fulfilled. Selling my labor for an hourly wage catering to people who like to think they're too busy to go to the grocery store is the very definition of self-actualization for me. Nothing is more satisfying than pulling myself up by my own boot laces, and I definitely don't think about hanging myself with them during my half hour lunch break. Nor do I fantasize about setting the place on fire. "Depression" isn't even a concept for me.

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