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280 pages, Paperback
First published May 7, 2019
❀ ━ { content warnings }
Cussing, lgbtq, sexual discussions, many medical depictions - many of which are graphic, discussion of mental health.
❀ ━ { recommended audience }
18+
❀ ━ { themes + what it meant to me }
I have mixed feelings about this book. On one hand, I really enjoy books with chronic illness rep and endometriosis rep. It is so good that books like this exist. On the other hand, this book was undeniably written out of anger. It is political, irreverent, and borderline indecent. I can understand being upset at life circumstances, and at the establishment, and all of the points that Havelin is trying to convey. I have felt those some emotions myself. However, do we really need 500 words of it? How is this useful? It would be much better to kindly point out these flaws once or twice, and then show how you moved past them. I don’t want a book full of inane greeting card phrases, because we have far too many things like that. But neither do I want a book that feels like I have just been passionately lectured for the past seventy two hours. Can we find a balance?
❀ ━ { characters }
Honestly? I didn’t really like any of them. I suppose Laura had some okay moments, and I definitely sympathized with her… but yeah. Oh and her daughter was so cute. I liked that part.
❀ ━ { plot + story development }
The book was arranged in an interesting way. Divided into… seven? parts and the parts were further broken up by definitions of various figure skating moves. I cannot say I read each definition thoroughly, I did skim a bit, but it was interesting nonetheless. And because this book was told backwards, I pretty much knew the entire plot within the first few paragraphs, so there wasn’t suspense. There was confusion though.
❀ ━ { author + writing }
Havelin’s style was fine. Neither earth shattering or poor. I could have used less explicit language though.
❀ ━ { overall + closing notes }
Honestly? I am a bit let down with this book. I read it because I read anything with chronic illness representation on principle… but that is really the only reason I kept reading. If not for that I would have dnf’d this book by page 200. That being said, if you want to understand chronic illness and endometriosis specifically , this book will help and I say you should read it. Other than that? Don’t waste your time.
The chain of things I wanted to be when I was younger, the links stretching backwards to angrier, more innocent and optimistic versions of me
Even as I get through the week and the pain slowly eases, I can’t stop thinking of how things could go wrong. The fragile structures of our hopes and how unnecessarily thoroughly they’re struck down. Our dreams could be wrecked a lot more easily anyway, with just a change in the air and light. The smallness of what we need - one more day of safety, another day of touching and talking to the people in our lives as if we have all the time in the world.
I just need one problem to be solved, or at least have its skin broken before I can deal with the rest. Instead, more and more weigh down on me. I just need one good day to sit down, put them on the table, and look at them separately, with a clear eye and solve each problem like a puzzle, maybe even find something that could help several at once. Something that won’t make the digestive problems worse, that won’t make me throw up, or feel dizzier or give me headaches, because all those symptoms are past capacity.
There must be something I can do, some sort of penitence, or level of enlightenment I can ascend to. I can give up ever eating anything tasty again, no problem, eating has already become a chore for nine months. I can exercise and take every kind of vitamin, mineral, or supplement under the sun. I can do without working, without going out, drinking, even without friends. [...]
If only I didn’t have to take quite so many painkillers, I could think a little straighter and find a way to live with it. If only I could sleep. If only I could have one doctor-free day. If only I didn’t have to spend all my energy on dressing, showering, keeping food down, getting the minimum done. If I didn’t have to get these injections that sit like an enormous wasp’s sting under the skin, if I could at least take medications that didn’t worsen each other’s side effects, as if someone had worked it out like that on purpose. If only I could think clearly for five minutes.
"It's crystal clear to me that no one wants to hear about it, but I will never finish needing to tell how much it hurts, how bad it is."
"My mother thinks I don't want people to feel sorry for me, but I do. I can't remember ever wishing there was less pity."
"I didn't invent the difficulty of depending on people. It's not a personality flaw of mine. The message is everywhere. The air is saturated with it -- independence and strength and pulling yourself up by your bootstraps (an image that is by its very nature impossible.)"