“Emptiness and boredom: what an understatement. What I felt was complete desolation. Desolation, despair, and depression.Isn't there some other way to look at this? After all, angst of these dimensions is a luxury item. You need to be well fed, clothes, and housed to have time for this much self-pity.”
In this quote from Susanna Kaysen's "Girl, Interrupted", the protagonist reflects on feelings of desolation, despair, and depression. These emotions are described as a luxury item, suggesting that they may be a product of privilege. This quote illustrates the complex and layered emotions that individuals may experience in moments of deep introspection and self-reflection.
In today's fast-paced society, where so many are struggling to meet their basic needs, the luxury of wallowing in despair and self-pity can seem almost absurd. Susanna Kaysen's words about emptiness and boredom being a luxury item ring especially true in a world where many are just trying to survive. This quote serves as a reminder to appreciate what we have and to find perspective in times of struggle.
In this quote from Susanna Kaysen, she reflects on her feelings of emptiness, boredom, and despair. She questions whether such deep angst is a luxury reserved for those who have their basic needs met. Let's delve deeper into the themes of self-pity and perspective in this quote.
In this quote from Susanna Kaysen, she describes feelings of desolation, despair, and depression as a form of luxury self-pity. This raises important questions about the nature of these emotions and how they are perceived in society. Consider the following reflection questions:
“And in the end, I lost him. I did it on purpose, the way Garance lostBaptiste in the crowd. I needed to be alone, I felt. I wanted to be going on alone to my future.”
“But when they were done, I wondered if there would be a next time. I felt good. I wasn’t dead, yet something was dead. Perhaps I’d managed my peculiar objective of partial suicide. I was lighter, airier than I’d been in years.”
“Why did she do it? Nobody dared to ask. Because - what courage! Who had the courage to burn herself? Twenty aspirin, a little slit alongside the veins of the arm, maybe even a bad half hour standing on a roof: We've all had those. And somewhat more dangerous things, like putting a gun in your mouth. But you put it there, you taste it, it's cold and greasy, your finger is on the trigger, and you find that a whole world lies between this moment and the moment you've been planning, when you'll pull the trigger. That world defeats you. You put the gun back in the drawer. You'll have to find another way.What was that moment like for her? The moment she lit the match. Had she already tried roofs and guns and aspirins? Or was it just an inspiration?I had an inspiration once. I woke up one morning and I knew that today I had to swallow fifty aspirin. It was my task: my job for the day. I lined them up on my desk and took them one by one, counting. But it's not the same as what she did. I could have stopped, at ten, or at thirty. And I could have done what I did do, which was go onto the street and faint. Fifty aspirin is a lot of aspirin, but going onto the street and fainting is like putting the gun back in the drawer.She lit the match.”
“Don’t ask me those questions! Don’t ask me what life means or how we know reality or why we have to suffer so much. Don’t talk about how nothing feels real, how everything is coated with gelatin and shining like oil in the sun. I don’t want to hear about the tiger in the corner or the Angel of Death or the phone calls from John the Baptist.”
“The point is, the brain talks to itself, and by talking to itself changes its perceptions. To make a new version of the not-entirely-false model, imagine the first interpreter as a foreign correspondent, reporting from the world. The world in this case means everything out- or inside our bodies, including serotonin levels in the brain. The second interpreter is a news analyst, who writes op-ed pieces. They read each other's work. One needs data, the other needs an overview; they influence each other. They get dialogues going.INTERPRETER ONE: Pain in the left foot, back of heel.INTERPRETER TWO: I believe that's because the shoe is too tight.INTERPRETER ONE: Checked that. Took off the shoe. Foot still hurts.INTERPRETER TWO: Did you look at it?INTERPRETER ONE: Looking. It's red.INTERPRETER TWO: No blood?INTERPRETER ONE: Nope.INTERPRETER TWO: Forget about it.INTERPRETER ONE: Okay.Mental illness seems to be a communication problem between interpreters one and two.An exemplary piece of confusion.INTERPRETER ONE: There's a tiger in the corner.INTERPRETER TWO: No, that's not a tiger- that's a bureau.INTERPRETER ONE: It's a tiger, it's a tiger!INTERPRETER TWO: Don't be ridiculous. Let's go look at it.Then all the dendrites and neurons and serotonin levels and interpreters collect themselves and trot over to the corner.If you are not crazy, the second interpreter's assertion, that this is a bureau, will be acceptable to the first interpreter. If you are crazy, the first interpreter's viewpoint, the tiger theory, will prevail. The trouble here is that the first interpreter actually sees a tiger. The messages sent between neurons are incorrect somehow. The chemicals triggered are the wrong chemicals, or the impulses are going to the wrong connections. Apparently, this happens often, but the second interpreter jumps in to straighten things out.”
“For many of us, the hospital was as much a refuge as it was a prison. Though we were cut off from the world and all the trouble we enjoyed stirring up out there, we were also cut off from the demands and expectations that had driven us crazy. What could be expected of us now that we were stowed away in a loony bin?”