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A review by loveryoushouldvecomeovermp3
The Book of Form and Emptiness by Ruth Ozeki
inspiring
reflective
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
oh. wow. i have so much to say.
i was 14 when i asked my parents to send me to therapy. i was grieving the loss of a friend, but the problems had been in me for years before that. some of my friends who were also affected by the death in our friend group were going to therapy and it seemed to really help them so i thought it could work on me too.
i hated therapy. i hated the way my therapist spoke about me. i hated how she just told me i was very pretty when i told her about my bulimia. i hated how she seemed more concerned about my grades than the fact that id tried to kill myself. i hated myself for lying to her constantly because i just couldn't trust her.
despite this, i did get better. but i credit that to my family and my friends. once they learnt of my struggle, i learnt of love. i learnt how much my struggle affected them. i learnt of bringing meaning into my life. i learnt of living for myself while also carrying his life within me, now that he couldnt anymore.
this book to me reflected exactly what i learnt from my experiences. our struggles cannot be classfied. the capitalistic structure of society is such that any form of classification ends up being oppressive and restrictive. the importance of community in recovery simply cannot be understated.
i do however think therapy has its merits. like i said, it did help many of my friends and for that i am eternally grateful. but the approach to mental illness as something that is uniform is what can cause harm.
god i just loved this book. i love it's approach to life. i love the characters. i love it's depiction of grief. i love the version of it that exists in me.
i was 14 when i asked my parents to send me to therapy. i was grieving the loss of a friend, but the problems had been in me for years before that. some of my friends who were also affected by the death in our friend group were going to therapy and it seemed to really help them so i thought it could work on me too.
i hated therapy. i hated the way my therapist spoke about me. i hated how she just told me i was very pretty when i told her about my bulimia. i hated how she seemed more concerned about my grades than the fact that id tried to kill myself. i hated myself for lying to her constantly because i just couldn't trust her.
despite this, i did get better. but i credit that to my family and my friends. once they learnt of my struggle, i learnt of love. i learnt how much my struggle affected them. i learnt of bringing meaning into my life. i learnt of living for myself while also carrying his life within me, now that he couldnt anymore.
this book to me reflected exactly what i learnt from my experiences. our struggles cannot be classfied. the capitalistic structure of society is such that any form of classification ends up being oppressive and restrictive. the importance of community in recovery simply cannot be understated.
i do however think therapy has its merits. like i said, it did help many of my friends and for that i am eternally grateful. but the approach to mental illness as something that is uniform is what can cause harm.
god i just loved this book. i love it's approach to life. i love the characters. i love it's depiction of grief. i love the version of it that exists in me.