Micaela’s Reviews > The Bell Jar > Status Update

"I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story... I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this gig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and everyone one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black..."

I feel ill as I read this, while the main character is also sick and Plath perfectly describes these feelings. The haziness of your senses and dread of trying to figure out what's wrong.