It has been a very emotional couple months for me due to a very stressful job environment (as of late), a loss of someone close to me to suicide (the very thing I advocate against), and some personal things that have led to my belief that my very world is crashing down on me with no hope of resurfacing. It has been so much so fast and so tough that I made a call to my doctor that I haven’t seen in three years to request a refill on the medication that I haven’t taken in two. Thankfully, the doctor refused to speak to me or see me because I had stopped going to see him. (Not sure what’s thankful about that as far as our mental health system goes, but that’s ten years of rants that I just don’t have the sanity for right now.)
I reviewed this novel once before, but 1. It was a shitty review, 2. I know it was a shitty review because 3. I loved the book, I just didn’t really know why at the time, and 4. I’m getting ready to finally read book two (I’m probably the last one left in the universe, but it’s one of those books I’ve been saving).
But I’m saying it because nobody is saying it. All anyone is saying is how offended they are by this or that. Which is fine. Like, I get that there are passionate people, and I’m definitely one of those people, but it’s come to a point where it’s really freaking me out.