Monday, December 21, 2009

November 29th to December 19th

Very depressed today. Unable to write a thing. Menacing gods. I feel outcast on a cold star, unable to feel anything but an awful helpless numbness. –Sylvia Plath, journal, October 13, 1959

She puts it so perfectly, I think.  Unable ... menacing. Looking back upon those days I see a giant wall of the blackest hell. A place in my psyche where the dementors have won. Frightening inertia. Inertia that threatens to suffocate. I wondered what could help me - make this go away.

I wonder if any of them can tell from just looking at me that all I am is the sum total of my pain, a raw woundedness so extreme that it might be terminal. It might be terminal velocity, the speed of the sound of a girl falling down to a place from where she can’t be retrieved. What if I am stuck down here for good?


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