Warning: This work has been rated 18+ for language and mature content.
She's sitting at her desk. She knows it's time to go. She's said that to herself over a million times...but this time she knows for sure it's real. She's tired. She's just so very tired.
*
She went off on her best friend K three days ago, about the band camp situation and personal problems. It might have been another bipolar episode, she thinks. And gosh... I f*cked up again. Why, why, why do I have to be such a horrible person, heartless and insulting and judgmental?!? K doesn't even deserve me. I was so cold to her and she hates me, that's for sure. They haven't talked since.
*
She might be able to go down to Tennessee to see her older sister B and her cousins, aunts, and uncles. Her grandparents offered to drive her down, since she really wants to see them. It would mean the world to her..she hasn't seen her sister for 2 years due to a feud with her and Mom. As much as she hopes to go, a small part of her thinks that she might accidentally open up about everything that's going wrong in her life. *Pause* And that terrifies her so badly.
*
She draws the same blood and knives and razors in her Depression Sketchbook sequel. It's almost full. She draws, with a soft pencil and starts to cry as she does. The world hates me. It's my fault for being so screwed up and having no friends. These, what, four or five d*mn disorders are holding me back!!! Once she starts, the familiar lumps rise and her eyes sting, reality becoming blurry. A drop penetrates the page, and she just lets them all fall down, as she hugs herself since no one else is there to.
*
She can't deny that she has an eating disorder. She can't. There are limits, like popcorn and butter and a lot of candy and a lot of desserts. She hates going down the candy or chip or frozen dessert isles and having to stop herself from stretching her hand out to snag a goodie. I'm what, 160 lbs? Maybe more. I should be skinnier. I need to lose the fat on my stomach and the fat that makes up my thighs. Gosh, I hate my thighs so much, I can't even wear a swimsuit without all the self consciousness and social anxiety slapping me in the face again. I need to stop eating so f*cking much. You need to stop, Emily. STOP. But I'm too fat to even look like I have an eating disorder.
*
Then there's the social anxiety coming into the mix. She's all for T-shirts and jeans..no visible tank tops or shorts or skirts or even dresses anymore. It'd show off too much of her ugliness. She's scared for when her freshman year will start. She's scared about how people will view her. She's even scared to tell her mom she wants to start dressing more "emo" because she sure feels like it on the inside. The panic attacks that happened in 8th grade are destined to occur again. And the crying in school - trying so desperately to hide it - because her menstrual cycle hurts so bad when it happens.
*
The major depression has transformed her from June 2, 2015 to even now: June 14, 2016. It's taken over her life; stealing every last bit of happiness. It started out when her longtime serious boyfriend W had to move to North Carolina without a choice. I miss him so, so much.. She's crying harder now. And I might never again be able to tell him how much I love him. The depression gradually included many more things, but never left her.
*
So much judgement comes to mind when the words "I'm suicidal" come out. She truly is. She's begged God to let her die and she's almost done it. Those countless goodbye notes are hidden away in fear a family member will find them by mistake. They think she's doing it for attention, they think that she needs to be placed in a mental institution. And no matter how hard she she shakes it off, it hurts her to agree silently.
*
She's crawled on the floor by now, in the fetal position. Only a dim lamp is lit as the sobs wrack her body, convulsing uncontrollably. God, can you just save me? Or let me leave, God please. I can't do this anymore.
*
It hurts. It hurts so bad she can't even move, she can't breathe, she can't convince herself to keep going another day. Smile Empty Soul's "With This Knife" lyrics drone on and on and on in her mind.
*
Talent from the kitchen knife is used again as she lets herself go numb. And that night, she dreams.
Of broken butterflies.
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125,020 Literary Works • 672,734 Reviews
Hi there, Vex15. I'm here to review your work today.
I have to agree with Yams here; this is a really weird writing style. I'm not sure what to make of it? It seems like snippets of scenes all thrown into one "chapter". You could expand on these, make them entire chapters on internal struggles....but you didn't. I honestly feel like you threw this together in a half-hearted attempt to portray mental illness--and you didn't really research it well, if at all. I feel like you're playing off a heap of tropes here and those are not very realistic.
By the way, do you even know what bipolar actually is? Any of the signs and symptoms or treatments? Did you know there's more than one type, too? I can't stress it enough; if you're going to write a character who has mental illnesses or disorders, please, please do some research. Bipolar is not as simple as it seems. Also, as someone who actually has anxiety/depression, I think it's a great disservice to not be portrayed accurately. I don't have bipolar, but I'm sure someone who does would prefer it not to be so inaccurately written? This actually feels more teenager than someone who has a legitimate illness.
Back to the snippet thing. This really does feel rather lazily written and put together, and it honestly feels rather short. If you were going for inner turmoil and stuff, you could have done this much better. As it stands, this is a very poorly thought out and structured work. It lacks emotion; I feel very empty reading this. Maybe a little sad, but mostly just empty. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not really getting anything from this? It lacks substance, and if you had really wanted to pack a punch, you could have drawn it out a lot more. All of these "snippets" could have been internal conflict in a long, more fully fleshed out chapter.
Overall, this does have potential, but I don't feel like you've got the skills or experience to tackle a subject like this yet? I don't know how else to put it, except maybe try something else? Mental illness is a heavy subject for any novel, and you're young writer, and, I'm assuming, new to the entire writing experience. Don't let me put you off; I've been writing for over fifteen years and I'm not confident enough to tackle something like this. I applaud you for attempting it, but I honestly think you're not ready yet.
I get that you might be trying to express yourself, but give it some time. No one is amazing right off the bat. You'll get there eventually! Okay, I don't have anything else to add, so I'll end the review here. Remember; keep it up and never stop writing.
~Scarlett.
Thank you for your words. I disagree with "Yams" and her review(s). I do know what BiPolar Disorder is, and exactly what type I experience. For the matter of fact, I've been writing for five years on numerous things, so I've had my practice and I still will.
Good day.
This is Yams here for a review on Review Day!
The whole style that it's written is is weird. You switch between first and third, though you need to pick one and stick with it. It feels really awkward when it switches in and out every few seconds. And if that's not the case and it's her thoughts? You really need to cut down on them. You overuse it, a lot.
This whole sentence is awkward. It messes up the flow and I suggest you either reword it or break it into two sentences somehow.
A few small things before I get into a bigger thing:
1. I think you should just leave this in first person as a whole and take out "They haven't talked since
2. We all know what word you're saying, and you already rated it for mature, there's no need to censor it.
3. I hate "?!?" and I think it's really dramatic and not needed. It feels really fake to me.
My main problem with this whole thing:
Did you do your research on bipolar disorder? Because even if you have it yourself, that's still not enough to call it research. You have to look it up, look at other people's experiences with it. Without it, you're portraying it wrong.
You're using mental illness as a plot device. You're using it to further your plot and make excuses for things to happen and you're doing it wrong. It really ticks me off how you romanticized it in the story with the main character having so many. It's not fun. It's not cool or emo or whatever you want to say to cut yourself or have any of these illnesses.
Did you research mental institutions?
Honestly, I'm going to put it straightforward with you: I don't believe you portrayed any of this right and went off sterotypes of mental illnesses and put them into one person to make a story. You can't just say you have "four or five mental illnesses" like the character said in the story. Have they not gone to the doctor for this? If they haven't, then they've never been DIAGNOSED therefore they don't know if they actually have any of these or not.
At the end of the story, this should all be in one sentence:
This was just an attempt to cash in on mental illnesses because some people can relate. But it's when it's done right. Here, I can't relate.
We obviously are not going to be friends. I apologize to you that you wasted your words and time in an effort to make me "re-invent" my chapters, however sloppily they were written. You do not need to be DIAGNOSED, sweetie, to understand that you have disorders and problems. And if you, Heaven forbid, actually write anything nice back, I think I'd fall over and die right then and there. Oh wait. I won't "literally" die, since it's a figure of fucking speech. It switches between first & third person because I fucking feel like it.
It's MY writing and I will do what I decide with it. Mental illness is not a plot device. This website is so I can have some hope for actually living and having "friends" here that can understand and support me. Guess not everyone cares, do they?
I personaly hope to never see a review from you again on my work. Because you have made it clear on these strewn about chapters of my life that you do not understand me, and you judge every concept with nitpicks in each section.
Do not contact me again.
If it's your writing, then you could've chosen to not post it. You can't yell at me when you were the one who posted it to get critiqued.
Do not contact me again.