Hospital Bracelets

Hospital Bracelets

  • WpView
    Reads 72
  • WpVote
    Votes 1
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
WpMetadataReadOngoing11m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Jul 10, 2014
The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling. ~David Foster Wallace
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • Behind every mean girl...there's a tragedy
  • My Mind Is My Enemy (Completed)
  • Waves
  • My vampire mate  (currently re-writing)
  • Me Without You
  • Detachable
  • The Lost Chance
  • Broken mind (Under heavy editing!)
  • Her Goodbye [✔]
  • A Spark Of Hope (#Wattys2016)

The average human being spends every second of his day fighting against the force of nature to see another day. But I'm different. I'm not afraid of outside forces to take my life away - only myself. Approximately 10 years ago, something happened to me. Something really bad. But I'm not allowed to talk about it. As a way to release my frustration, I give hell to my body and everyone I come in contact with - especially my parents. No one knows about what happened except the ones who did it...and Him. But he didn't stay. Now, he's back and he's not talking either. I want to stop hurting, I need to stop. Make me stop.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines