Accountablity, Emo, and So On

Remember Th1rteen R3asons Why?

I'm glad the book seems to be being quite successful- I've heard it mentioned frequently in discussions of YA literature.

I read a review today that pointed out that, although she enjoyed the book, there are a surprising number of one and two star reviews on Amazon.com.

I'd like to examine these reviews further.

There are three main complaints- that Hannah doesn't assume accountability of her actions; that she has no real problems; and that she is an annoying, whiny bitch on top of that. More that one person (parents, I'm assuming) also claimed the book is not appropriate for teenagers.

Accountability in a suicide is always very tricky, to say the least. We all saw that in the Megan Meier and Hannah Bond cases. The reviewers claim that Hannah forces the blame and guilt of her suicide on others (which she does) but does not take credit for her own actions. The very definition of suicide is the act of taking one's own life. Hannah made a conscious choice to swallow the pills; she didn't have them forced down her throat. There are thirteen reasons that influenced her to make that decision, and she chooses to let people know if they are involved.

In my opinion, a person makes the final choice in regards to his suicide, but there is always an outside event, a trigger, that leads him to consider it. No one is isolated in their own mind and no one commits suicide for no reason.

Which leads us to the next complaint: Hannah's problems do not constitute a suicide. There's plenty of people out there who believe nothing constitutes a suicide, but reviewers say they kept waiting for something even more atrocious to happen to her and one even claims that

"[h]alf of all high-school girls will go through most of what Hannah went
through.... [the book] will be extremely confusing to teens that are facing real
problems with depression, as they see a girl that has plenty of reasons, none of
which are anywhere near as bad as theirs, and lose all hope for themselves if
someone with so few real problems wasn't able to find a way to get through
it."

Hannah is clearly depressed. Already in a fragile state, she was RAPED. Severe depression is severe depression, never mind what brought it on.

The whole "good reason to commit suicide" thing has always bugged me. Where do you draw the line? And who is someone to judge another's emotional torment? Individuals respond to situations different ways. The suicidal person is obviously considering suicide, so the reasons seem valid enough to him or her.

And if one half of high school girls go through this, Th1rteen R3asons Why is exactly the kind of book we need to raise awareness of bullying and other hurtful actions.

Finding Hannah's character whiny and annoying probably ties in with her lack of "real" problems or is just personal preference. That said, I thought Hannah's character was realistic, likable, and well done.

There is one review I need to respond to in particular now, or else I may explode, which pretty much sums it all up (WARNING: massive spelling/grammar issues):

the summary of this book is way better than the actual book.i hated it so
much it is just so boring she sends people the tapes for the dumbest reasons
there almost like oh you looked at me so im gonna commit suicide because of it.
its so dumb........i suggest you to not read this book because it will be waste
of youre time....

Boring? Dumb? Personal preference???

It deeply saddens me to realize, once again, that no matter how powerfully depression, mental illness, and suicide are portrayed there are some people who will never get it. In Th1rteen R3asons Why, they are the tormentors of Hannah. In my life, they torment me. One of those people wrote this review. They ignore the reason the book was written and the message it attempts to convey, but prove the reality of it at the same time.

And finally, if this book is such a reality, you can't say it's inappropriate. Before you complain about the sex and suicide, the partying and drinking, the rape and language, visit the halls of the local high school and listen to what the teenagers are actually saying. You can't censor life.

And since this was such a depressing post, I'll leave you with a cute puppy cupcake:

Depressed? I blame the Enlightenment.

"Happiness is but a dream but sorrow is real."

- Voltaire

Whoever said I should be enjoying life?

We live in an age where we believe that we, as human beings, have a right to be happy. In fact, if someone isn't happy, there's something wrong with him or her. People should seek out enjoyment in life, and do everything within their power to advance their level of enjoyment.

This is a relatively new mindset that first took hold in Europe during the Age of Enlightenment and became a fundamental part of the United States' government and culture. Previously, during the Middle Ages and into the Renaissance, the popular opinion was that life on Earth was just a short trial to be endured before eternal happiness and bliss, so most people stuck it out. During the Enlightenment however, with new ideas about God and the universe developing rapidly, and increased value of the individual, people began to believe that life in and of itself was something that could and should be enjoyed. Religion began to take a secondary role in many people's lives.

Before we know it, a new country is formed based on the "truths" that "all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

I've definitely a right to be happy. It says so in the Declaration of Independence. But just because I've got that right doesn't mean I have to use it. I mean, I really want to, but I don't exactly have much of a choice. And I'm fine with other people having a good time. It's just that an awful lot of people choose to pursue happiness to a gross extent.

Believe it or not, there was once an age where it was perfectly OK to not be thrilled with life. People say that life was much harsher all around back then, but although we've got antibiotics and refrigerators and entertainment at our disposal, there is one universal thing that transcends time: emotion. Humanity has been sad all throughout history, but suddenly in the 21st century, I'm not allowed to be.

My Suicide

An American independent film titled "My Suicide" debuted at the Berlin Film festival in February.

Synopsis (taken from IMDb):

"Archie Williams (Gabriel Sunday) is a 17-year old media geek who has suddenly found himself the most talked-about kid in school. He has announced that he's going to kill himself- on camera- for a class project. His classmates, parents, Sierra- the most beautiful girl in school (Brooke Nevin), and a "Shady Bunch" of shrinks, doctors, pill-pushers, and counselors descend on Archie. Some are hoping to save him, some want to imitate him, others try to push him over the brink. Archie films every moment of his high school experience, hiding nothing from his audience: realities of life, death, violence, sex, drugs, and the intense media overload and hypocrisy that bombard all teenagers."

So far, it's received mostly good reviews.

Trailer

So, what do you think? Would you go see this film? Do you think it would accurately depict depression and other mental health issues? What about the tagline: "A Self-Inflicted Comedy"?

I Miss Me- But Who's That?

I went to the movie theatre with friends last night... the first time in months. Actually, I can't recall the previous time, so it must've been longer than that.

Most people would be happy to know that I enjoyed myself. I found this terrifying.

Throughout this blog, I keep saying I want to act like a normal teenager; I want to be happy again. Then I go and be happy and I scare myself half to death.

I don't know how to respond; it's way too far out of my comfort zone. So is my new "normal" depressive? I guess so.

Which leads me to say that I can't return to what I call my "normal" moods and behaviors from before Eva's suicide.

And that is terrifying too, because I don't know where to go next.

It's not the teenagers that need worrying about...

Six-year-old boy I was watching: What's a g-string?

Me: ...

The kid: What's a g-string?

Me: It's a part of a guitar.

I haven't a lot to say lately, online or off. It's kind of peaceful, actually.

Elsewhere for a Time

I'm sorry,

Were you talking to me?

I'm not all here right now;

Apologies;

My head isn't working quite right.

What did you say?

I'm glad I realize you're here at all;

I could've missed you

Easily through the messy lens.

I'm not all here,

You know.

But I already told you that,

Didn't I?

I've drifted over the horizon and

Down the path of lunacy.

If you need me,

I'll be elsewhere for a time.

Screw Politically Correct

"... and her [Lady Macbeth's] mental instability eventually killed her."
- a summary of Macbeth I had the pleasure of reading in school

No. Fucking. Way.

She killed her own damn self, thank you. Mental illness is not an assassin. Nor is it an affliction that kills you (cancer, pneumonia, diabetes) it just makes you WANT to die. We usually call the method used suicide.

I suppose this handout was put out by the same people who decided that the term "African slaves" is somehow offensive (the correct way to say this is apparently "enslaved Africans"- big difference, no?), but, really? Is the bureaucracy that afraid of mentioning suicide?

Cutter

For the first time in months, I felt together. Sharp. In hurting myself, I had
at last found a way to release the pressure. But it
was more than that.
I was now different. I felt different. I’d discovered a way
to control my
feelings. Just because self-mutilation wasn’t deemed an acceptable
coping
mechanism didn’t mean I was going to stop doing it.
–Victoria Leatham, Bloodletting: A Memoir of Secrets, Self-Harm, and Survival

I am a cutter.

Though I haven't truly cut in over a year, the unfortunate stigma of self-injury still surrounds me. In this day and age, people see my scars and recognize them for what they are. Some people say that it is a sign of the growing awareness of self-injury. It is, but it's not the right kind of awareness. It's awareness of the existence of self-injury, but it's not awareness of the truth of what it is and why people do it.

If someone has scars from a mechanical accident or burn marks from spilling boiling water, do we judge them as clumsy and absent-minded? No! Of course not! Yet, here I am, weak, immature, and making a mountain out of a molehill.

Once I had joined the ranks of the cutters, I found myself unable to leave. A disenchanted underground society, we understood each other's primal pain and a need for release. A criticism of self-injurers communicating with other self-injurers is that it doesn't promote recovery. In my case at least, that wasn't true at all: while we all felt the same exhilaration of bloodletting, we urged one another to stop, even as we went against our own advice. We formed pacts, daring each other to go the longest without self-injuring. And what was so amazing was that no one got preached at- we were all at the same level, and no one could judge another negatively.

I don't know if my experience was unusually positive, but it made me feel like a human being, not a weak, sub-par alien without coping mechanisms.

People find this blog searching for advice on how to self-harm. I cannot offer that. The need to hurt oneself comes from within, and there's not one way that eases the mind better or faster. I don't want to promote self-injury to those who may find another way to cope. While I don't like risk statistics being shoved under my nose, they still need to acknowledged. Self-injury is sometimes the only thing keeping people from committing suicide, though. And since cutting is A Very Bad Thing, but suicide is A Much Worse Thing, they should probably lay off on the self-injury a little. Also, in a lot of cases it's either self-injury or illegal drugs- which one is the Worse Thing?

Unless these scars smooth over, I will always be seen as a cutter. I can't say I'm proud, but it can't be farther from the truth. I will never preach about the danger and dire need of professional help to cutters and make them feel ashamed of something out of their control, because inside and out, I will always have the vision of one.