Quotes That Helped Me (Validation Edition – Part 2)

Of course, there are always more quotes! I had too many quotes on this subject to fit into one post so here are some more quotes that will hopefully validate some of your harder, more complicated feelings.


“I think my life is of great importance, but I also think it is meaningless.” – Albert Camus

“I don’t want to believe, I want to know.” – Carl Sagan

“I cannot understand why the world is arranged as it is.” – Fyodor Dostoyevsky

“God, I just want to be important. I just want to be someone real.” – Ritapa Neogi

“As far as I could see, life demanded skills I didn’t have.” – Susanna Kaysen

“I know too much and not enough.” – Allen Ginsberg

“I feel very small. I don’t understand. I have so much courage, fire, energy, for many things, yet I get so hurt, so wounded by the small things.” – Anais Nin

“The world changes too fast. You take your eyes off something that’s always been there, and the next minute it’s just a memory.” – Michel Faber

“Memories do not always soften with time; some grow edges like knives.” – Barbara Kingsolver

“It was because I was scared. Scared of standing out, scared of being invisible. Scared of seeming too big, scared of being too small.” – Malorie Blackman

“I don’t know where the strength went, I don’t remember losing it. I think that over time it got chipped away, bit by bit, by life, by the living of it.” – Paula Hawkins

“I am afraid I will be like this forever.” – Sierra Demulder

“For the first time in my life I understood how someone could consciously decided to commit suicide. Not because they were deranged, not because they were nuts, but because they’d been to the top of the mountain, and they just knew in their heart they’d never get there again. It was never gonna get, never gonna be that way ever again.” – Joe Biden

“The difference between how you look and how you see yourself is enough to kill most people.” – Chuck Palahniuk

“Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn’t make you stronger. It doesn’t build character. It only hurts.” – Kate Jacobs

“I’m sick to death of this particular self. I want another.” – Virginia Woolf

“I’ve spent half my life not knowing the difference between killing myself and fighting back.” – Andrea Gibson

“I was horrified by life, at what a man had to do simply in order to eat, sleep, and keep himself clothed.” – Charles Bukowski

“You never forget. It must be somewhere inside you. Even if the brain has forgotten, perhaps the teeth remember. Or the fingers.” – Neil Gaiman

“There are times when I am convinced I am unfit for any human relationship.” – Franz Kafka

“Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.” – Evelyn Waugh

“Too much emotion, too much damage, too much everything.” – Ernest Hemingway

“It all ends in tears anyway.” – Jack Kerouac

Quotes That Helped Me (Validation Edition – Part 1)

One thing I’ve really learned over the last few years is that, as important as support and help are, so are recognition and validation of what we’re going through. To feel like someone understands how we feel can ward off the intense isolation that can come hand in hand with mental illness. To have our struggles dismissed is sometimes even worse than them being ignored altogether.

In a continuation of this series, here are some quotes that validated my feelings and helped me feel understood. I hope they can do the same for you.


“I’m afraid I’ll be a book that no one reads. Music that no one listens to anymore. I’m afraid I’ll be abandoned like a movie playing in an empty theatre.” – Tablo

“We are all museums of fear.” – Charles Bukowski

“I exist too much, I feel too much, think too much. Reality is crushing the life out of me.” – David Jones

“I’m really afraid to feel happy because it never lasts.” – Andy Warhol

“Have you ever had to get through a day, smiling at people, talking, as if everything were normal and okay, while all the time you felt like you were carrying a leaden weight of unhappiness inside you?” – Elizabeth Wurtzel

“I get it now. I get it. The things that you hope for the most are the things that destroy you in the end.” – John Green

“I’m numb and I’m tired. Too much has happened today. I feel as if I’d been out in a pounding rain for forty-eight hours without an umbrella or a coat. I’m soaked to the skin with emotion.” – Ray Bradbury

“The truth is, I pretend to be a cynic, but I am really a dreamer who is terrified of wanting something she may never get.” – Joanna Hoffman

“The incredible pain returns again and again and again.” – Susan Sontag

“I can only connect deeply or not at all.” – Anais Nin

 “Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.” – Jonathan Safran Foer

“I’m not sure which is worse: intense feeling, or the absence of it.” – Margaret Atwood

“That’s the thing about pain. It demands to be felt.” – John Green

“I need to be alone for certain periods of time or I violate my own rhythm.” – Lee Krasner

“I am deathly afraid of almosts. Of coming so very close to where I want to be in life that I can almost taste it, almost touch it, then falling just a little short.” – Beau Taplin

“I’m just dying to say, ‘Hey, do you ever feel like jumping off a bridge?’ or ‘Do you feel an emptiness inside your chest at night that is going to swallow you?’ But you can’t say that at a cocktail party.” – Paul Gilmartin

“It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.” – Jack Kerouac

“She felt everything too deeply, it was like the world was too much for her.” – Joyce Maynard

“Even if you know what’s coming, you’re never prepared for how it feels.” – Natalie Standiford

“The sadness will last forever.” – Vincent Van Gogh

“How do we forgive ourselves for all of the things we did not become?” – David ‘Doc’ Luben

“There is a certain clinical satisfaction in seeing just how bad things can get.” – Sylvia Plath

“No one warns you about the amount of mourning in growth.” – Té V. Smith

“I am half agony, half hope.” – Jane Austen

Claudia Boleyn on BPD and Obsessions

I’ve written about Claudia Boleyn’s videos before but this is another great one that I think really clearly explains something that happens with Borderline Personality Disorder (also becoming known as Emotional Intensity Disorder) and various other mental health problems. I really recommend watching it.

In this video, Claudia talks about how, when you’re struggling with your mental health, you can develop obsessions with certain things, particularly fandom related things: fictional characters, books, TV shows, etc. These special interests can overlap with autistic special interests but they can also come about as a coping mechanism; they can become an escape from the difficulties of the real world.

She talks about how she can categorise her life by her obsessions, including Emmerdale and Anne Boleyn and certain areas of art history. She talks in particular about her obsession with Anne Boleyn, how it strengthens her and gets her through the really tough times. She even uses Boleyn as a surname: “I use it to exist in the world.” She talks about how she uses this obsession and others to understand herself. All of this makes those obsessions really special and important. I can definitely relate to this. My life can be divided up by my obsessions: animals but particularly horses – I obsessively read the Animal Ark and Saddle Club book series – Harry Potter, crime dramas, Taylor Swift, certain youtubers, anything superhero related…

“My identity and my life is sort of filled up with the stories of other people rather than stories of my own.”

With BPD, there’s the extra layer of struggling with your identity and your sense of self. Claudia talks about how she would go to school dressed as her favourite characters and how a teacher once asked her, ‘When will you come to school dressed as yourself?’ But that’s really hard when you don’t know who you are. I’ve always found it very easy to lose myself in fandoms or characters because I don’t know who I am to begin with and I’ve had a couple of experiences where I’ve done things I didn’t actually want to do because I thought that’s what a character would do, i.e. what I should do to embody those good characteristics.

“I’ve never felt like I have a proper identity in myself so I’ve sort of constructed one in a way based on what I admire and what I want to be and what will make me as good a person as I can be and what will make me contribute to the world but it’s really tough.”

It can be a good, helpful strategy – until it starts to dictate your emotional state.

“I think this isn’t spoken about enough with BPD, especially because we can struggle with identity and who we are and what sort of people we are. I think we often construct ourselves based around fiction and around those characters we admire and I think it matters a lot to us. It feels like it becomes a part of our identity in a way, so when it goes wrong, it feels like we’re falling apart. Yeah, it’s difficult.”

Another problem in BPD is that of regulating your emotions. Small things – day to day things – can have massive impacts on your mood. It can be exhausting and stressful to go through such ups and downs and it’s constant; there’s a lot of fear and uncertainty involved. So escaping into an obsession or fandom can be helpful and soothing but then, when something goes wrong in or around that fandom, for example, it can cause really negative emotions because your escape, your safe place, has been threatened. It might seem extreme from the outside but it’s very real and personal if you’re going through it.

I really relate to this video and I’m really grateful to Claudia for putting it out into the world. We need to talk about all parts of living with mental health, not just the relatively straightforward ones.

Quotes That Helped Me (Creativity Edition)

I’m struggling creatively. I’ve actually been quite productive recently (in the creative sense) but my creative confidence has been really shaken by this recent episode of depression. I tried not to think about it but I had (and still have to some extent) this deep fear and this deep dread that I’ll never write songs again, not in the way I wrote them before. I have this fear that it will never be easy again, never be truly fun and that’s left me feeling very insecure and vulnerable. So I could use some encouraging words…


“Go into the arts. I’m not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.” – Kurt Vonnegut

“Write like it matters, and it will.” – Libba Bray

“Give up the notion that you must be sure of what you are doing. Instead, surrender to what is real within you, for that alone is sure.” – Baruch Spinoza

“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should’ve behaved better.” – Anne Lamott

“Art is just another form of screaming.” – Unknown

“Write to write. Write because you need to write. Write to settle the rage within you. Write with an internal purpose. Write about something or someone that means so much to you, that you don’t care what others think.” – Nick Miller

“You don’t have to be the best guitar player, or have the best voice, or even be the best looking person – writing a song that moves people is worth more than all the other nonsense (just look at Bob Dylan: he’s got almost no vocal range at all, but his songs are deeply moving and iconic). If I had to offer one piece of advice: write a song that moves people, and write it from within yourself. Your personal narrative is more engaging and moving than anything else you can imagine in your mind.” – Ryan Ross

“Your intuition knows what to write, so get out of the way.” – Ray Bradbury

“You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.” – Maya Angelou

“There’s a phrase, ‘sitzfleisch,’ which means just plain sitting on your ass and getting it done. Just showing up for work. My uncle Raphael was a painter, and he used to say, ‘If the muse is late for work, start without her.’ You have to be there. You have to be there, and do it, and grind it out, even when it is grinding and you know you’re probably going to rewrite all this tomorrow.” – Peter S. Beagle

“In a time of destruction, create something.” – Maxine Hong Kingston

“Write because you want to communicate with yourself. Write because you want to communicate with someone else. Write because life is weird and tragic and amazing. Write because talking is difficult. Write because it polishes the heart. Write because you can. Write because you can’t. write because there is a blackbird outside of my window right now and oh my god isn’t that the best start to the day? Write because you’re trying to figure yourself out. Write because you might now ever figure yourself out. Write because there still aren’t enough love poems in the world.” – Dalton Day

“You have to believe. Otherwise, it will never happen.” – Neil Gaiman

“Just speak your truth; it’s an important cornerstone of how your life ends up sort of unfolding in front of you. Even if it’s painful, if it’s honest, it’s going to bring you to the place you deserve to be.” – Sara Bareilles

“To the storytellers: type, scribble, scrawl, write, scream your story into existence, and whatever you do, don’t look back.” – Jonathan Stutzman

“There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.” – Somerset Maugham

“Don’t be strategic or coy. Strategic and coy are for jackasses. Be brave. Be authentic.” – Cheryl Strayed

“Write it badly. Write it badly, write it badly, write it badly, write it badly. Stop what you’re doing, open a Word document, put a pencil on some paper, just get the idea out of your head. Let it be good later. Write it down now. Otherwise it will die in there.” – Brandon Sanderson

“We have to create; it is the only thing louder than destruction.” – Andrea Gibson

“Today, just like yesterday, I woke up, picked up my pen and notebook and kept on writing.” – Laura Jane Grace

“You have to write the book that wants to be written. And if the book will be too difficult for grown-ups, then you write it for children.” – Madeleine L’Engle

“By all means break the rules and break them beautifully, deliberately, and well.” – Robert Bringhurst

“Write about what you need to write about even it’s just love poems. The world could always use at least six more love poems. And don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.” – Trista Mateer

“If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” – Toni Morrison

“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.” – Ray Bradbury

“You don’t have to be great to start, but you have to start to be great.” – Zig Ziglar

“Write down everything, even if it’s painful. Especially if it’s painful.” – William Babin

“There are poets who sing you to sleep and poets who ready you for war and I want to be both.” – Ashe Vernon


Again, if you guys have any quotes that inspire you, please let me know. I’m always looking to add to my collection.

Quotes That Helped Me

Knowing me and my affinity for words, it should come as no great surprise that the quotes of other people have always played a big part in my life. I’ve collected them, filled notebooks and blogs, written them on my body… Sometimes you can’t put exactly what you’re feeling – or the encouragement you need to hear – into words but fortunately, those words are often already out there. So I thought I’d post some of the quotes that have helped me in the hope that they might help you too.

When I started pulling these together, I realised just how many I’ve collected in the past few years alone. I have more than five thousand saved on a Tumblr blog, for example. So this may become a series. These quotes are ones that have encouraged me and motivated and there is a distinct memory attached to each one, a time in my life where I saw it and it spurred me on in a way nothing else had been able to. So these ones are pretty special.


“Do it or don’t do it – you will regret both.” – Søren Kierkegaard

“The bravest thing I ever did was continuing my life when I wanted to die.” – Juliette Lewis

“The poison leaves bit by bit, not all at one. Be patient. You are healing.” – Yasmin Mogahed

“Recovery does not mean losing what makes being you special. Recovery means losing what makes being you painful.” – Unknown

“Take a shower, wash off the day. Drink a glass of water. Make the room dark. Lie down and close your eyes. Notice the silence. Notice your heart. Still beating. Still fighting. You made it, after all. You made it another day. And you can make it one more. You’re doing just fine.” – Charlotte Eriksson

“Let it hurt. Let it bleed. Let it heal. And let it go.” – Nikita Gill

“How much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder?” – Richard Siken

“Start now. Start where you are. Start with fear. Start with pain. Start with doubt. Start with hands shaking. Start with voice trembling, but start. Start and don’t stop. Start where you are, with what you have. Just… start.” – Ijeoma Umebinyuo

“It takes courage to grow up and turn out to be who you really are.” – E. E. Cummings

“I closed the box and put it in a closet. There is no real way to deal with everything we lose.” – Joan Didion

“What happens when people open their hearts? They get better.” – Haruki Murakami

“But if these years have taught me anything it is this: you can never run away. Not ever. The only way out is in.” – Junot Díaz

“There is so much stubborn hope in the human heart.” – Albert Camus

“Thinking is my fighting.” – Virginia Woolf

“Every time we attend a therapy session, take our prescribed medication, get out of bed, shower, eat a healthy meal, spend time with other people, exercise, or ask for help, we are fighting. Each step in recovery is an act of defiance toward our mental illness leading us to hope.” – Michelle Stepp

“I must endure, and endure, and still endure.” – Tennessee Williams

“You are not going nowhere just because you haven’t arrived at your final destination.” – Taylor Swift

“What did you do today?

Existed quietly within myself.

What will you do tomorrow.

Exist with some degree of force.” – Trista Mateer

“Hang on. It gets easier, and then it gets okay, and then it feels like freedom.” – Taylor Swift

“You are not what happened to you. You are what you chose to become after what happened to you.” – Selena Gomez

“Life is tough, my darling, but so are you.” – Stephanie Bennett-Henry

“I rise from my worst disasters, I turn, I change.” – Virginia Woolf

“My life has changed, and I’m changing with it.” – Sophie Kinsella

“You know who’s going to give you everything? Yourself.” – Diane Von Furstenberg

“Be as fearless as the women whose stories you have applauded.” – Hillary Clinton

“I can’t abandon

the person I used to be

so I carry her.” – Unknown

“Today, just like yesterday, I woke up, picked up my pen and notebook and kept on writing.” – Laura Jane Grace

“I’ve had the wind knocked out of me, but never the hurricane.” – Jeffrey McDaniel


I’m always adding to my collection so if you guys have any quotes that have inspired you, please let me know. We could probably all do with a little more inspiration in our lives.

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Of Stars and Spirals

Warning: This post will contain spoilers for Turtles All The Way Down by John Green. This is not so much a book review as it is a collection of my thoughts about a particular book so I will be talking about the characters and the storyline in some detail. Hopefully it will make sense. If you’ve read the book or don’t mind spoilers, read on but if you want to read the book (which I highly suggest you do) and watch the events unfold, go and do that first. And then maybe you can come back and read this…

As I said in my post about New Years Resolutions, I really want to get back into reading. When I was a kid, I inhaled book after book after book and I have so many memories of forgoing sleep, just so that I could finish whatever story I was in the middle of. I really loved to read. It was my favourite thing. But somehow, with university and my mental health and the rollercoaster that has been my life for the last few years, reading sort of fell off my radar and I really miss it so one of my New Years Resolutions is to try and get back into reading. I want to rediscover what I loved about it. This was the perfect book to start with, even though it hit me with a tidal wave of emotions and I’m still recovering a couple of weeks later. But I think that’s how reading is for me, at least for the moment.

From the moment I heard that John Green’s new book was about a girl with OCD, I knew I wanted to read it and knowing that he has very personal experience with OCD made me even more excited about it. I’ve read several of his books (I especially loved The Fault in Our Stars) and I’ve always really connected to the voices of the main characters. And that was what made reading Turtles All The Way Down such an emotional experience. I read it in one sitting (apart from the first chapter – I realised I was going to read it in one sitting and so I needed to plan for that). I don’t think I’ve ever related so strongly to a book, which is a really big deal since I’ve been struggling to find a book I relate to at all. I found it to be a really true, really full account of dealing with a mental health problem. I’ve always struggled to work out where OCD fits into the mosaic of my mental health so I found this book really helpful in that sense. It shifted a few things in my brain and helped me understand myself a bit better. I’m very grateful for that.

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The story is narrated by sixteen-year-old Aza. She’s quiet and thoughtful, trying to manage friends, school, and planning a future, all while struggling with constant anxiety about bacteria, infection, and dying from Clostridium Difficile Infection (also known as C. diff). She describes the anxiety as ‘thought spirals’ or ‘invasive thoughts’. She feels like she has no control over her thoughts, describing them as “not a choice but a destiny,” and often the only way to control them is to check and clean a permanently open cut on her finger, proving to herself that she doesn’t have C. diff.

I love Aza and I really, really related to her, to how she thinks, how she navigates the world. I’ve always thought of my thought spirals as black holes but the descriptions match up pretty closely. And I swear, some of the things she says could’ve been pulled from my own thoughts:

  • “Worrying is the correct worldview. Life is worrisome.”
  • “I was so good at being a kid, and so terrible at being whatever I was now.”
  • “I knew what it was like to be in a feeling, to be not just surrounded by it but also permeated by it, the way my grandmother talked about God being everywhere. When my thoughts spiralled, I was in the spiral, and of it.”

We struggle with a lot of the same things, from the littlest things to the biggest things. Like me, she struggles with her sense of identity; she talks about her “irreconcilable selves” and describes her search for her self as opening Russian dolls, looking for the final solid one but never finding it (I can definitely relate to that, although my current metaphor is a house of mirrors). Like me, she’s untidy, something that flies in the face of a huge OCD stereotype. And like me, she struggles with her body, with having a body: “I disgusted myself. I was revolting, but I couldn’t recoil from my self because I was stuck inside of it.” Finding all of these things in a character feels like such a big deal. I don’t think you can really know how important it is to have a character you relate to until you can’t find one.

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The book could easily fall into the cliché of ‘girl with mental health problem meets boy and suddenly everything is better’ but fortunately, it doesn’t. I was so, so relieved. Aza and her best friend, Daisy, find themselves investigating the disappearance of Russell Pickett, the father of Aza’s childhood friend, Davis. Aza and Davis become very close very quickly but that only makes things more difficult for Aza. He means a lot to her but, as she says, the “actual mechanics of it” are really hard for her. Touching and kissing send her into a panic, a spiral that tightens and tightens. And that’s really hard for her: “I can’t have a normal life if I can’t kiss someone without freaking out.” As much as she wants to be with him, as hard as they try to make it work, her mental illness is just too much. It might sound strange but that is incredibly comforting. Despite the fact that we all know a relationship can’t magically reset your mental health, there still seem to be so many stories where that is exactly what happens. Maybe it’s because the writers want to believe that, for themselves or for someone they care about. But it’s not the truth. To know that there is one story – one more story – out in the world that demonstrates that is a relief to me. I know that my mental health prevents me from being in a relationship regardless of all other factors; seeing someone else experience the same thing helps me, even if that person is fictional. Whether it’s just for now or forever (“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”), that makes me feel a little bit less alone.

The real love story is in Aza and Daisy’s friendship. I fell in love with Daisy and their friendship from the first mention. I loved that she knew when Aza was struggling and just how to help her: “She’d straightened something inside me.” I was almost giddy with excitement to find such a supportive friendship. But then they both get into relationships and they start to drift. Aza’s mental health also starts to drop. The ritual of cleaning her finger becomes less and less effective. The spirals tighten, the voice of her OCD gets stronger, and her desperation increases, leading her to drink hand sanitizer in the hope that it will prevent her from getting sick. Driving home from school one day, she and Daisy get into a vicious argument during which Daisy calls her “extremely self-centred”. I found all of this really upsetting; my stomach kept twisting, so much that it hurt. I was so attached to their friendship that seeing it crumble was really painful. It results in Aza hitting the car in front and at the hospital later that night, the feeling of being surrounded by bacteria is just too much for her and the thought spirals overwhelm her. I don’t want to go into too much detail because you should really just read it. It’s so well written and I related to it so strongly.

After that, Aza has to spend a lot of time and energy on recovering from that. It’s scary and difficult and she feels very fragile but slowly, things do change. She and Daisy rebuild their friendship and while it’s so similar, it’s also very different to how it was before. They talk and they talk properly; those conversations are some of the best in the book.

But as wonderful as that is, it doesn’t solve Aza’s struggles. “Everyone wanted me to feed them that story – darkness to light, weakness to strength, broken to whole. I wanted it too.” She still has thought spirals; she’s still so terrified that she can barely talk about it. Her life – and her future – feel suffocated by her anxiety: “I could never become a functioning grown up like this; it was inconceivable that I’d ever have a career.” This process feels so real to me. I’ve hit breaking point after breaking point and I always expect to feel better, or lightened, afterwards but then all the problems are still there and that can feel devastating. Accepting the reality of her mental health is one of the biggest and most difficult struggles: “I would always be like this, always have this within me. There was no beating it. I would never slay the dragon, because the dragon was also me. My self and the disease were knotted together for life.” But, despite all of that, you can see the evolution in her thinking. She manages to say yes to things that scare her, she has good days, and her relationships get stronger. It’s subtle but her self worth improves too: “You’re the storyteller and the story told. You are somebody’s something, but you are also your you.” That is so much more important than if she’d made massive strides because it’s so real. That progress is slow and subtle and sometimes we don’t even see it happening. But when it’s written out on paper, you can see it and it’s a really good reminder that it’s there. It gives me hope.

Her relationship with her Mum is another thing I really liked in the book. They have a close relationship (“I could always feel my mother’s vibrating strings.”) and she’s a good mother but she says the wrong things sometimes and her concern can just feel like another layer of pressure for Aza. Over the course of the story, they get better at communicating and she learns what helps and what doesn’t, and Aza gets better at telling her. That’s such an important process and I think it sets a really good example: mental health problems can be really hard to understand, on all sides, and we don’t always get it right. Getting it wrong doesn’t make you a bad person; you just have to learn from the mistakes. And communicate. Towards the end, they have a really important conversation where Aza says, “I can’t stay sane for you…” and I really want to highlight that moment. I had a very similar conversation with my Mum. I think that people in our lives ask us to do things for them, thinking that they’re helping you, motivating you, giving you something to live for, when in fact they’re just adding more pressure to an already difficult situation. It’s not their fault – they’re just trying to help – but it can make things worse and they won’t know that unless it’s explained to them. So I think that was really good to have in this book.

Something else I related to was the fact that Aza’s father died several years earlier. When it comes to the events in the story, it’s not particularly relevant but at the same time, it’s very relevant (bear with me). It’s a massive part of who Aza is (it’s interesting that, from an outside perspective, we have a stronger sense of her identity than she does). She keeps her Dad close, driving his car, holding onto his phone to look through his pictures, talking to him… “I thought about how everyone always seemed slightly uncomfortable when discussing their fathers in front of me. They always seemed worried I’d be reminded of my fatherlessness, as if I could somehow forget.” My god, I relate to that. I can’t forget, not for a second. It’s painful but at the same time, I treasure it. I don’t want to forget. It’s part of who I am: “To be alive is to be missing.” It’s one of those before and after moments in your life; it changes you. It was comforting to see my experience (“And the thing is, when you lose someone, you realize you’ll eventually lose everyone.”) reflected back to me in someone else. As I’ve already said, it means so much to me to find a character I relate to so strongly. It makes me feel less alone. It makes me feel more real. “I remember after my Dad died, for a while, it was both true and not true in my mind… My father died suddenly, but also across the years. He was still dying really – which meant, I guess, that he was still living too.” Words like these are such a comfort to me. Aza imagines the moments they should’ve – or could’ve – had and they’re so clear that sometimes she forgets they didn’t happen. I can definitely relate to that.

Something I love about John Green’s writing is how he brings attention to things that are often overlooked or taken for granted: “It’s a weird phrase in English, in love, like it’s a sea you drown in or a town you live in. You don’t get to be in anything else – in friendship or in anger or in hope. All you can be in is love.” He weaves little things – or the little links between little things – into his stories that make the world more intricate, more real. The characters talk about the stars and Kurt Gödel. They have revelations about turtles and intersecting tree branches. Those things, for me at least, mean as much to me as they do to the characters. I mean, I am a space nerd and at least seventy percent of my thoughts are about metaphors but these things, these connections create so many layers to the story. As Aza says, “The world is also the stories we tell about it.”

After seeing what a huge impact this book had on me, my Mum read it, also in the space of a couple of days:

This story has also given me so much. It has helped me to better understand the feelings and anxieties my daughter lives with, and more importantly, another context to talk with her about them. (After reading this I realised that all the quotes she has chosen to include, are ones I have found particularly helpful too). I feel indebted to John Green for this story, for the hope I see it bring to her, and hopefully others too, for the understanding it can give parents and others supporting those with mental health issues, and for giving her a reason to read again. The way he closes the story also give me hope, for the future I wish for her.

It surprised me, how much she loved the ending since I’m still not sure how I feel about it. But I’m so glad she loved the book and that she got so much out of it.

This book means so much to me and I’m really glad it’s the book I chose to get back into reading. It’s definitely one that I’ll hang on to, carry around… It was always have a place on my bookshelf. There’s so much in it, multiple storylines that blend into each other. There’s elements of mystery, elements of romance, family and friendship, identity, loss… And it shows how everything affects everything else. The language is beautiful and brutal and real. I related to so much of it and it put so many of my thoughts into words. I love how he describes everything: he uses phrases like ‘swimming up from the depths’ and ‘sensorial planes’ when talking about thoughts spirals which is just so true, in my experience at least. There will be criticisms – there always are – but this is the book I needed exactly when I needed it and I will always love it for that.

There is so much more I could say – there’s so much I haven’t even mentioned – but I’ll stop there. So I’ll leave you with a quote from Aza’s therapist, who reminds me a lot of my own therapist. She says a lot of good and important things throughout the book but this is my favourite, and my favourite of the book:

“In some ways, pain is the opposite of language… And we’re such language based creatures that to some extent we cannot know what we cannot name. And so we assume it isn’t real. We refer to it with catch-all terms, like crazy or chronic pain, terms that both ostracize and minimize. The term chronic pain captures nothing of the grinding, constant, ceaseless, inescapable hurt. And the term crazy arrives at us with none of the terror and worry you live with. Nor do either of those terms connote the courage people in such pains exemplify.”

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“It often dwells in cliche, but only as pop songs and epic poems do, mining the universal to create something that speaks to the familiar rhythms of the heart. At one point Aza thinks about how the string from one musical instrument can cause the string of another to vibrate, if it’s the same note. That’s what this novel does. It will pluck the strings of those in tune with it. It will resonate with, and comfort, anxious young minds everywhere. It might just be a new modern classic.” – Matt Haig, excerpt from his review of Turtles All The Way Down for The Guardian (x)