the bell jar

if i was being honest, i was quite bored at the beginning of this book—mainly because it was slow and felt quite numbing; numbing in the same way you would go onto tiktok, scroll for hours, and then, afterwards, wonder why you did it despite it not giving you that much dopamine. but in some way, it set the foundation for what i thought to be a phenomenal second half of the book.

the second half was a poignant examination of depression and what it means to care. it really did, as corny as it sounds, show and not tell. [spoiler alert]. something that really struck me was the last part—before esther has to go into the room for examination to see if she could leave the psych ward—when she felt scared for the first time; scared of whether or not she would pass the final interview. and that really stood out because she was literally scared of nothing else before that. she wasn't scared of self harm, nor was she scared of drowning. but all the sudden, even when this is something good for her, she seemed to be nervous.

and i think this books gets to a point about depression that many other forms of media don't access: the fact that depression is silent. i think we—or maybe just i—have a weird conception that depression always has to be negative; that depression is when you are constantly sad. but this book really showcased how insidious and monotone depression can be. it's not being sad that's the problem; it's not being able to feel sad.