I wrote this over a year ago, I was never really sure whether to publish it. It’s one of those things that are never quite perfect; you're never 100% happy with it. Tired of it sitting in my drafts file, I spent yet another sleepless night reworking something that really, in the great scheme of things, isn’t really important.
However, I feel mental illness is particularly neglected, people thing, what do they have to complain about? I think it goes much deeper than that, to the extend where sufferers, fight and struggle within themselves to admit they need help.
Afraid perhaps that no one will answer.
Please, just tell someone,
Anyone.
Women and Philosophy, I don’t think the two mix very well. Not saying that women shouldn’t be educated or that men aren’t sensitive. Women I feel, just already tend to think quite a bit more. And it can become a dangerous thing.
Aside from it being, basically an interesting waste of time in today’s society. It seems, to particularly lead to premature death in women, romantic, melodramic but nevertheless,
death.
Sylvia Plath who wrote 'the blood jet is poetry' was inextricably connected to her poems, the more she put into them, the more it pulled from her, and BAM! Head in an oven, dead.
I blame philosophy, well more particularly in the form of poetry. The more women think, the close they come to death. The Sylvia Plath effect- secretly or even openly, as soon as you have a taste of the work of this remarkable woman you will be hooked on every word she speaks. Also the misinterpretation of these ideas may have something to do with it.
I am not kidding it should be an actual disorder. The Plath syndrome.
Seriously.
I recently finished her only novel, The Bell Jar, written beautifully, as always I may add.
Moving it was, to say the least, it gives an insight into mental illness, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, something like the novel the Catcher in the Rye; however this one does not make you depressed just by reading it.
“I want to be important. By being different. And these girls are all the same.”
She just hits a nerve. The saddest thing about suicide, perhaps, is the unfulfilled potential. The forgotten people left behind... Children, family, lovers.
Caged by their minds. We all are, to some extent, victims of this.
Virginia Woolf? Great theologist, great feminist. Manically depressed? Perhaps... whatever the reason may be, she stacked her dress with rocks and passionately drowned in a river.
Hegel- ignorance of mind cages humans. Just as little is seen in pure light as in pure darkness.
Key to the cage, we are all trapped inside our minds.
Human reason as a means to seek truth is delusional; we are all prisoners of language.
Ah insecurities, they affect us all don’t they?
However, I feel mental illness is particularly neglected, people thing, what do they have to complain about? I think it goes much deeper than that, to the extend where sufferers, fight and struggle within themselves to admit they need help.
Afraid perhaps that no one will answer.
Please, just tell someone,
Anyone.
Women and Philosophy, I don’t think the two mix very well. Not saying that women shouldn’t be educated or that men aren’t sensitive. Women I feel, just already tend to think quite a bit more. And it can become a dangerous thing.
Aside from it being, basically an interesting waste of time in today’s society. It seems, to particularly lead to premature death in women, romantic, melodramic but nevertheless,
death.
Sylvia Plath who wrote 'the blood jet is poetry' was inextricably connected to her poems, the more she put into them, the more it pulled from her, and BAM! Head in an oven, dead.
I blame philosophy, well more particularly in the form of poetry. The more women think, the close they come to death. The Sylvia Plath effect- secretly or even openly, as soon as you have a taste of the work of this remarkable woman you will be hooked on every word she speaks. Also the misinterpretation of these ideas may have something to do with it.
I am not kidding it should be an actual disorder. The Plath syndrome.
Seriously.
I recently finished her only novel, The Bell Jar, written beautifully, as always I may add.
Moving it was, to say the least, it gives an insight into mental illness, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, something like the novel the Catcher in the Rye; however this one does not make you depressed just by reading it.
“I want to be important. By being different. And these girls are all the same.”
She just hits a nerve. The saddest thing about suicide, perhaps, is the unfulfilled potential. The forgotten people left behind... Children, family, lovers.
Caged by their minds. We all are, to some extent, victims of this.
Virginia Woolf? Great theologist, great feminist. Manically depressed? Perhaps... whatever the reason may be, she stacked her dress with rocks and passionately drowned in a river.
Hegel- ignorance of mind cages humans. Just as little is seen in pure light as in pure darkness.
Key to the cage, we are all trapped inside our minds.
Human reason as a means to seek truth is delusional; we are all prisoners of language.
Ah insecurities, they affect us all don’t they?
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