Thursday, July 22, 2010

I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now


I realize you're only 16. That makes it easier for me to forgive some of your more angsty or boycrazy moments, since we've all been at "that age".

But you presumptuously call yourself a writer and you've submitted your blog to be critiqued here, so I'm going to attempt to treat you like an adult and be bluntly honest because I genuinely like you and think you deserve that.

Have you noticed that as soon as you were diagnosed with bipolar disorder (over a year ago), you have written about little else and your blog has become super emo? I'm not trying to discount your illness, but do you have anything else going on in your life that you could possibly write about?

UN Peace Mission to Bombay but never write about it. You do the same thing with a school trip to Singapore. You actually write about a school trip to Malaysia, but it ends up coming across as a journal entry where you literally talked about cute boys and what you bought when you went shopping at the mall. Where are the hilarious stories involving the people you met? Where are the descriptions of the things you saw on your trips, written so I can imagine being there?

Hell, you even spent some time locked up in an institution of sorts, and all you could do is give us a description of the people who were there with you. You've given me a cast of characters, but no actual play. I feel gypped.

I'm frustrated, because I know you can write. You use correct spelling and grammar, which is amazing when most of the reviewers get stuck with the blogs of grown-ass adults who have no fucking clue. You write about things other people are scared to. You can turn a phrase beautifully and take pride in your writing when you take the time. I want more of this.

But 80% of the time, you only talk about your current mental state or write pretentious pseudo-artist crap. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but we don't have a lot of patience for people who think writing about their angst makes them deep, introspective and unique.

Here's some big-sisterly advice from someone who's dealt with depression herself: if you wallow in shit, your cuts are only gonna get infected.

I'm not telling you to repress what you're feeling, but just to avoid things that trigger your depression and anxiety. Yes, writing about pain sometimes helps one deal with it, but there's a difference between that and relishing the pain to the extent that you end up defining yourself by it. And you really have much more potential than just a fucking definition, chica.

While we're on the subject of immersing yourself in your drama, why aren't your comments set to be moderated? Since you have an ongoing problem with trolls, it makes me think you enjoy the antagonism.

The problem is . . . I actually agree with the trolls half the time. I don't agree with how abusive they are, but I can see where they're coming from. You mention your maids, your tailor, spending a shit ton of money on shopping, and your FIVE expensive cameras. True, you have a mental illness and abusive/emotionally distant parents, but nonchalantly acting like a rich bitch makes it hard for me to feel that much sympathy for you.

Some more big-sister advice: I really think you should do some volunteer work for people less fortunate than yourself. It'll help put things into perspective, give you something to do other than think about your drama and provide blog fodder that will probably be more interesting to your readers.

And PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, take your fucking pills. Who gives a shit if you get fat? Imagine all the mentally ill people who can't afford their medication. You being flippant about your pills is completely offensive and makes you look like a self-indulgent princess.

Anyway . . . because I actually, truly, love it when you quote a relevant song, book, or poem at the end of your posts, these are for you:

You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everyone else, and we are all a part of the same compost pile.

That I must be their scourge and minister.
I will bestow him, and will answer well
The death I gave him. So again good night.
I must be cruel only to be kind.
Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.


  1. I think something that people don't understand is that we can tell the difference between (1) when you're depressed and feeling like shit and (2) when you're trying to sound depressed.

  2. And I considered the same song lyric for my title yesterday.

  3. I kind of like her writing (I need more time, sobriety and less work to know for sure), but all this "4 people sympathized" and "old mopping me" severely pisses me off.

  4. Hm, this blog sets off my lie detectors.

  5. I think the reptile might be on to something. Seems like she'd post some pix with all that fancy camera gear. If this is really what 16 is like these days, I feel about 139.

  6. Hmmm. I didn't actually get any warning bells. Just thought she was an overly precocious kid. Although if she is 16 now and was 14ish when she started....that is a hell of a lot of precociousity.(Did you know that if you get a degree in Englsih it comes with the right to make up your own words? True story)

    Liked the writing in general though.

  7. What do you guys think she's lying about? I pretty much read the whole thing from start to finish and I never got a sense that she's lying. Maybe playing things up for the drama factor, but I don't think there's any outright falsehoods.

  8. I don't care about the blog, but I fucking LOVE the Flaming Turd of Apathy tag. Wish I could use it more.

  9. I think "Trllian" as a 16 year old bipolar kid with a journal is an elaborate exercise in role-play by someone with publishing ambitions.

  10. I can't deal with, "Give me your sympathy, but I don't want your pity" or whatever. Bullshit semantics, sweetcheeks.

    I am too Western for her, just because of this:

    "I mean, come on - this is India, for Christ's sake. Child abuse is practically our tradition...and well, also, it doesn't hurt as much as you guys think it does. I guess when you grow up with it, you get used to it. Some days, it's awful. It makes me want to slash the hell out of my shoulders and more often than not, it makes me suicidal."

    Bullshit. Oh, child abuse isn't that bad, it just makes me a little suicidal sometimes. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

    She's either completely brainwashed, poor thing, or a fucking liar.

    Trillian, you seem to be smarter than this. And you don't have my pity, or my sympathy (because it's basically the same thing) but I will say this:


    And if you aren't a liar, and you need an outlet, go here.

  11. Incidentally HIF, I really AM 139, but that's like 24 in your human years.


Grow a pair.