The Bell Jar

I am re-reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath.

I first read it a few years ago when I took it out from the library.

A couple of weeks ago, Adam had an appointment downtown in the

entertainment district at 10pm on a Friday night.

More often than not on Monday mornings, there is something in the

paper about a shooting or a stabbing or a hit and run in that part of the city.

It's not a bad area, it's actually a very nice part of town.

There are just too many young stupid drunk people that flock there

and do really stupid things.

So rather than sit at home and worry I went with him.

There was a Chapters Books one block away from where he was going that was open late.

I went in, bought The Bell Jar for $14.00 then got a coffee frappacino

from the in-store Starbucks,  read & drank as I waited for Adam.

If you know anything about Sylvia Plath, you know that

she was a poet more than a novelist.

The Bell Jar was her only novel and it was published just

a few weeks before she took her own life.

Her depression is evident in her writing.

Maybe that's why I connected with it.

She has a very real and clear way of writing.

As someone who suffers with depression, I prefer to read stories that are uplifting

and positive or so completely different than what my life is as a way to escape.

That's why I love watching films and reading.

While my eyes are focused on the screen or my nose is in the pages, I live in the stories

and get respite from the things in my own head.

I like to believe the old saying that most artists are tortured souls who have higher than average compassion and that the funniest comedians are those with alot of personal sadness.

Makes me appreciate my creativity and sense of humor when things are tough.

I am on page 141.

Esther, after having one session with Dr. Gordon, was prescribed Electro Shock Therapy.

She's gone to the private psychiatric hospital and had her first session.

The way Sylvia Plath wrote about it, you almost know that she's writing

from experience. She writes about the smell of the ointment put on her temples.

As I read, I am mortified to think that people with mental illness were actually

given Electro Shock Therapy as treatment.

Thank goodness for our present treatments of cognitive therapy
and a daily dose of 20mg of an SSRI.

I'll take that over shock treatment any day.

This excerpt from page 140 made me take a deep breath because I know there

are still people today that feel like Esther's mother.

'I'm through with that Dr. Gordon,' I said, after we had

left Dodo and her black wagon behind the pines. 'You can call

him up and tell him I'm not coming next week.'

My mother smiled. 'I knew my baby wasn't like that.'

I looked at her. 'Like what?'

'Like those awful people. Those awful dead people at that

hospital.' She paused. 'Iknew you'd decide to be all right again.'

My plan for this weekend is to finish the book, relax, enjoy my time at home

with Adam and Crockett and try not to worry about anything.