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Dearest, I feel certain that I am going mad again- Virginia Woolf

Virginia Woolf is considered to be one of the greatest writers in history. Her novels like Mrs. Dalloway, To The Lighthouse and Orlando, and feminist essays like A Room Of One's Own and Three Guineas, are critically acclaimed and renowned in today's world. After graduating from King's College, London, she fell into the world of literature and joined a circle of artisans and intellectuals known as the Bloomsbury Group within which she met her husband, Leonard Woolf. It's her fourth novel- Mrs. Dalloway- that made her famous. She made her stand as a revolutionary writer but even though, her writings were crisp and clear, her mental state... not so much. She had attempted suicide many times. She has a history of suffering from sexual abuse at the hands of her half-brothers. The loss of her mother, her half-sister and her father further added to her trauma. She suffered from mania and hallucinations in her lifetime. Though she sought many psychiatric treatments, they were all futile. On the morning of March 28, 1941, her husband, Leonard Woolf knew that something was off-putting about his wife of twenty-nine years so he suggested to her that she go inside and rest. And unfortunately, that's the last time he saw her alive. Leaving two suicide letters behind, on an early spring day, she filled her coat pockets with rocks and walked into a nearby lake. Her death was said to be "the end of a world" by T.S. Eliot. It also inspired a team of researchers to start working on an app that could predict a person's suicide tendencies from their writings. As she died, she left a novel and autobiography unfinished. Her suicide note was her final piece of writing. 

Dearest,

I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can’t go through another of those terrible times. And I shan’t recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can’t concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness.

You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don’t think two people could have been happier ’til this terrible disease came. I can’t fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know.

You see I can’t even write this properly. I can’t read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you.

Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can’t go on spoiling your life any longer.

I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been.

 V.

Reading that note, addressed to her husband, I couldn't help but tear up. Even though the authenticity of that letter is still a subject of debate, it was a piece of writing that truly hurt my soul. In that letter, we can see how she begins to relapse into her mental illness again and how she can't just fight it anymore. And even though she loves her husband with everything in her, she does not want to end up a burden. It clearly portrays the mind of a person suffering from mental illness. How they see the love- acknowledge it- but never believe it can save them because their own mind has led them to believe they can never be redeemed.


Her story shows how important it is to notice someone who is struggling and help them before they reach a stage where it is impossible to help them any further. Mental health problems are real. They're cruel. They turn a person hopeless and vulnerable. I wonder what more could've come from Woolf if she hadn't met such a drastic end- what all she could've further accomplished if her life hadn't turned out the way it had. But it did. And she died. In my opinion, that is one of the greatest tragedies the literary world has ever suffered.

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