The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls Page 26
Excerpt #161 from confiscated notebook, passage of interest, typed out for clarity:
After the cutting and the suicide attempt, I was told that I clearly have no sense of self-preservation. While I did not appreciate the snide and critical tone in which this was said to me, I did agree with the statement. I myself have said as much, haven’t I? But I think I was wrong.
Suicide may not be self-preservation, but it is self-defense. By taking your own life, you are simply attempting to defend yourself against whatever assailants are attacking you.
Gravedigger 1: “How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own defense?”
Gravedigger 2: “Why, ‘tis found so.”
(William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 5, Scene 1)
It is not perceived as insane when a soldier, under an attack that will inevitably lead to his death, chooses to take his own life first. In fact, this act has been not only tolerated and forgiven, but encouraged for centuries, and is accepted even now as an honorable reason to do the deed.
How is it any different when you are under attack by your own mind? Does it really matter whether the enemy comes from without or within—approaches you from in front or behind?
The worst of it is that, in the case of a person with a mental disorder, it is rarely considered that there is a part of that person that is completely lucid—that knows exactly what’s going on. And, even if it were acknowledged, when someone attempts to take their own life, it is always, always seen as the “insane” part of them that made the final decision.
“Poor thing, if only she hadn’t gone crazy . . . what a crazy, crazy thing to do.”
I don’t buy this.
In my case, and in the cases of many I have either known or known of, it was not the insane half (because we’re all divided into halves, remember?) of the person that wanted to die—it was the perfectly rational half. It would be insanity to stay the course while the ship is going down. It is not insanity to end it in your own way, on your own terms, and in the most painless manner possible.
I believe that the sane part is the part that makes the ultimate, the final, the executive (pun intended) decision.
Excerpt #167 from confiscated notebook, passage of interest, typed out for clarity:
When someone commits suicide, everybody wants, understandably, to believe that neither they themselves nor the person who died are responsible in any way. But, when someone only attempts suicide, everybody wants to hold the criminal entirely responsible. They even ask things like, “Why did you do it?" and this is exactly what I mean—if I have a reason, then that means I’m not crazy, right? I believe it is precisely because no one can ask this question of the dead that they prefer to simply assume that the victim was crazy.
And, aha! Victim. That’s just it! You die, you’re a victim. “Suicide victim." We’ve all heard that. You live, you’re a stupid, selfish, cruel person.
I’ve been a bad girl.
A bad, bad dog.
So, tell me this then: I know very well where attempted suicides go—they go to an asylum. But ought they better go to a reform school? If they are indeed flawed in character, as I myself have been made to feel that I am, what can a mental hospital possibly do for them? For us? We should be morally reformed, not mentally. Right???
Do not think that I am recommending suicide as a course of action for anyone.
In fact, I am not recommending anything at all, nor am I discouraging anything at all. I am simply telling a story—my story, and this includes my opinions and observations, which I feel I have a right to.
I am neither a role model nor a teacher.
I am honest.
Excerpt #171 from confiscated notebook, passage of EXTREME interest, typed out for clarity:
"Crazy" usually implies that a false reality is being accepted by the brain as being “real.” The trouble with me is that, even in the sober light of day, I cannot say that these realities are false. To do so would only be to conform to the generally accepted version of reality that we all agree upon only to avoid looking strange. Because, even if you’re brave, looking strange is exhausting, and, despite what we want to tell ourselves, it hurts . . . it really hurts . . . until one day when it doesn’t.
(Doctor’s Note: W14A is clearly experiencing delusions—arrange for time in the quiet room, keep away from other patients.)
Excerpt #179 from confiscated notebook, passage of EXTREME interest, typed out for clarity:
STATUS WITHIN THE ASYLUM: Lifer. Permanent Resident. No chance for recovery. We have quarantined ourselves.
(Doctor’s Note: W14A seems to have disassociated her own identity, episodic, each lasting for a longer period of time. We suspect she will continue further in this—stronger medication is needed, schedule electroconvulsive therapy.)
About the Author
Emilie Autumn grew up by the sea in California where she mastered the classical violin before going on to travel the world as a singing theatrical performer and author. Globally known for her genre-bending album Fight Like A Girl, Emilie has also appeared as an actress, starring in Darren Lynn Bousman's musical fantasy films The Devil's Carnival and Alleluia: The Devil's Carnival.
Emilie’s academic career ended abruptly at the age of ten when she was removed from school to enable her the time to perfect her musical craft, yet, despite her near-complete absence of formal education, her debut self-published novel (the early editions of The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls) seems to demonstrate some understanding of proper spelling and grammar, and has been cited in text-books used as part of the psychology curriculum at Oxford University in London.
Upon the release of her 2007 Shakespearian-themed concept album, Opheliac, Emilie found herself an overnight star in Germany's industrial rock scene, and began touring extensively. With her Victorian burlesque-themed stage show and signature heart painted on her cheek (a unifying symbol devotedly replicated by her international fan base known as "Plague Rats"), Emilie fast became a sensation throughout Europe and the United Kingdom before touring in America, South America, North America, and Russia.
Diagnosed first with major depression in her early 20s and later with bipolar disorder, Emilie’s first novel (The Asylum…) was culled from the very real pages of the secret journal she kept whilst incarcerated in a mental hospital. She hopes that her future writings will not require such dramatic circumstances in order to be published.
Since its fully-illustrated first edition hardcover release in 2008, The Asylum... continues to increase in popularity as "Plague Rats" around the globe cover themselves in tattoos from its elaborate art, cosplay as its eccentric characters (both human and animal), write their own fan-fiction, put on their own stage plays taking place in the "Asylum" world, arrange group tea party meet-ups, and incorporate Emilie's story into their own lives in virtually every imaginable way, beginning with the knowledge that what makes them different makes them magical and ought to be celebrated, not hidden.
Emilie is presently composing and developing the Broadway musical and film versions of The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls. To follow her progress, join her on her social media accounts below, and visit her websites for the latest news.
EA on Instagram as @emilieautumnofficial
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Emilie Autumn Official Website:
www.emilieautumn.com
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www.asylumemporium.com
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www.theasylumforwaywardvictoriangirls.com
Secret Facebook Group: The Striped Stocking Society
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Your Voice is Power
Dearest Reader,
Your voice is the most important tool in helping our Asylum grow. Your voice is far more powerful
than you may think. Your voice is everything.
Help Emily and Veronica and the Captain and all of the Inmates and Plague Rats and even Madam Mournington and the Doctors live on by leaving a review of this story on the site you bought your book from, or on multiple sites, it's up to you! Just tell others what our story made you feel, and we will live forever.
With all my gratitude, and welcome to our world, welcome to the Asylum. With us, you will always have a home.
~ EA