I think I'm dying
Gabriel Marquez says: How many women live among us and breathe but died a long time ago!
I felt these words of Marquez while reading Sylvia Plath's letter to her psychiatrist.
Dated: Saturday, September 29, 1962
Sylvia Plath wrote a letter to psychiatrist Beaucher in which she said: “I'm sorry I write so much, but this is what I have left. I think I'm dying and I feel hopeless.” Ted left me and I haven't seen him for two weeks. He lives in London with no address. Tonight, I was feeling oppressed by this isolation and the rain and wind rushing behind the windows. I went up to his office because I felt nostalgic to read his writings, and I found them! Sentimental love poems for this woman, the woman he became attached to and became devoted to, describing her ivory body, her scent, and her beauty, telling her that in a world full of beauty he went to marry Hazebon, and telling her, saying: “Now I have gotten rid of the octopus around my finger.” So many beautiful poems, While I'm Dying Here. I feel ugly, with my messy hair, huge nose and washed-out brain. God knows how I try to stay together.
Sylvia longs for her husband, Ted, so she decides to go up to his office. Perhaps she will find in his writings something to satisfy her longing for him. Then, she is surprised by the love letters that her husband writes to his mistress! He described his wife, Sylvia, as an octopus!
