At 20, she overdosed on sleeping pills in her mother’s cellar.
At 29, she drove her car into a river.
At 30, Sylvia Plath finally killed herself by sticking her head in an oven.
Think about that a second.
One night, she placed wet towels under the doors to keep her babies safe, turned on the gas, crawled in her oven, and died.
Umm . . . hold up, Jennifer.
What’s up with this sad crap.
Morechicken stories, please.
Hang tight, dear reader.
This is BOOK LAB. Not Oprah’s Book Club.
We conduct reading experiments and write about them.
But also, don’t you think mental illness needs more attention?
Why do we only talk about it behind closed doors at 100 bucks an hour?
Shall we make a long list of people gone too soon?
Plath wasn’t an addict.
But people often use drugs and alcohol to…
View original post 1,912 more words