After rereading what I just wrote, I feel a more fitting title would be unfocused ramblings about The Yellow Wallpaper. Somewhat fitting to the book, actually.
It is 4/25/25, 10:30pm and I have just finished reading The Yellow Wallpaper. It was originally
recommended to me through some social media, as people we're mentioning how it related to the Backrooms.
After reading it I think I disagree.
The Backrooms is about a feeling of being lost and lonely,
the horror of not knowing what is around the corner, being completely out of your element. Whereas the
narrator of The Yellow Wallpaper is suffering from a feeling of entrapment, she finds an escape in the
wallpaper, envisioning herself trapped within it's pattern.
I have to admit I relate to her quite a lot. Not that we are similar now, but I feel that if I had been
born in a different time, when personal agency was reserved for the men, I would have become just like
her. She suffers from some kind of depression and/or psychosis, most likely a postpartum illness. I
found that her symptoms reminded me of the way I behaved as a child. Entertaining myself with the
mundane, creating twisted and disturbing fantasies. I feel that the only way I avoided such a desperate
state is by the self-agency that I was given to take care of myself.
Though I have experienced quite intense psychosis in short periods, I was so good at hiding it that it
was never addressed. That may sound like a bad thing, but you can see through her story that what most
people see as treatment for such a thing would only make it worse. I think that even though we have made
advancements in our understanding of mental health, we have not much improved the way we treat those
with serious mental health issues. I know quite a few people who have been to a mental hospital, and of
course heard some stories through the internet. The common theme being that it was more traumatizing
than helpful.
I honestly feel that treating someone with a mental illness differently than someone who is "normal", you do them a disservice. Anyways, all I am saying is that if I were treated for my mental illness, I worry it would have only worsened. I would have felt like an outcast. By recognizing that something was wrong with me at an early age, I would have to deal with the trauma of feeling wrong and different. Though it is not ideal, I am satisfied for now learning to identify my emotional states on my own, and learning how to treat myself in those states. This may sound worrisome, or perhaps self absorbed, but I feel that I know what is best for myself, at least on a base level. I may not be able to improve significantly on my own, but figuring out what is happening is enough for me right now.