Maybe she could survive, obtain another wooden leg, and continue living her life. She then realizes that she is stuck on the frame, unable to back out of the window frame. She begins to cry again, wishing that she hadn’t climbed into the window, knowing she only has one choice now, to go forward with her original plan. She misses her home, her bed, wishing that she could be there once again. She looked down at the axe, which seemed for last for hours.
Personal life capabilities helps one to overcome the obstacle of loss by facing similar situations and getting used to a new environment. In fact, losing a loved one helps an individual to prepare to face similar situations in the future. For example, Addy loses so many people throughout the novel that she eventually gets used to it. To handle the death of her first baby, Addy decides to leave Detroit and find another home: "The wind shook the windowpanes and the house on Chestnut Street groaned at the loss of yet another soul. Addy was still weak from the efforts of her labour, and still sore and bleeding, but she knew she had to leave and she had to leave today" (Lansens 271).
Helmer then harshly accuses her of “silly excuses” and refuses to be convinced by her pleading words. Ibsen uses two words in the following line, miserable and creature. These words would be filled with rage and were said to inflict pain on whoever hears, especially to Nora, who is
Assisted Suicide Misty Fyffe Composition II October 2, 2011 He laid there looking up at me with tears in his eyes. I asked him what was bothering him and he told me everything. He was hurting so bad and all he wanted to do was eat but he knew he couldn’t. He grabbed my hand and put it to his face and said to me “Misty, I know I’m causing you guys so much pain right now as you guys watch me die. I just wish I could die it hurts so much can you please help me.” I picked his head up and laid it on my lap and played with his hair until he fell asleep finally.
I began to cry as they rolled me out. I got very hot all of the sudden; heart racing; feeling sweaty. They got to the door where my mom couldn’t come. I grabbed her hand, she kissed me and told it will be okay, just relax. Entering the room, laying down on my back, with all the faces staring at me; I was so scared.
The care plan was read and then the necessary equipment to continue with treating the wound was brought to where Sarah was sat. As the nurse was preparing the equipment we spoke with the patient, asking if she was managing to sleep any better, as it had been documented that Sarah was unable to sleep due to the pain caused by the leg ulcer. Sarah became very emotional and started to cry, saying that she could not cope much longer due to the wetness and odour of the bandaged leg or the pains in her leg when she goes to bed. The nurse spoke calmly and listened to Sarah, showing empathy. At this point I was able to see how experienced the nurse was with dealing with a situation that required in-depth knowledge of psychological factors that can lead to further distress for Sarah if not addressed.
The number 3 switched on the screen. A strangled cry escaped her and she struggled to breathe. Tears threatened to spill over onto Lola’s cheeks at the time. Her glassy eyes glanced up at me before settling down on the door. “No…” Lola croaked out, “Don’t leave.
As the four remorsefully glared at a stone that read “Son, Brother and Friend”, the deafening silence was pierced suddenly by the deathly shriek of a darkened crow. “Ahhh!” exclaimed the silent Delia. Again it shrieked, and again! Frightened Skye grabbed Delia’s hand while Ivan was holding Maia. The unending fog hung on the stones of the dead like a heavy, suffocating sheath, casting relentless misery on all who trespassed through it.
This gives me the image of Plath standing in front of the mirror and crying, rubbing her hands uncomfortably. I feel this reflects how the poet is truly feeling and how unhappy she is with her life, thus revealing a tormented and anguished persona. I believe we have all felt like this at one time or another when we have stood in front of a mirror. It may have been a physical defect or an internal unhappiness, which torments us and leads to anguish and despair. In the poem “The Times are Tidy” which is about the loss of imagination and excitement, Plath laments the loss of legendary heroism, medieval dragons and wicked witches.
Why do you mend your breast-pleat With a rusty needle’s thread And fall with fears and silent tears Upon your single bed? Why do you sit so sadly Your face the colour of clay And with a green gauze handkerchief Wipe the sour sweat away? Has she gone to Blisland To seek an easier place, And is that why your eye won’t dry And blinds your bleaching face? Take me home! cried Charlotte, ‘I lie here in the pit!