Yellow Wallpaper There are many signs that arise when one is diagnosed with postpartum depression. Amongst the lots of is “obsessive-compulsive features, including intrusive, repeated ideas and anxiety. You see this all throughout “The Yellow Wallpaper,” and it starts when the storyteller first describes the weird patterns in the incredibly symbolic wallpaper in the space that was once a kids’s nursery: “It is dull enough to puzzle the eye in following, pronounced enough to constantly irritate and provoke research study, and when you follow the lame unsure curves for a little range they all of a sudden commit suicide– plunge off at outrageous angles, damage themselves in unheard of contradictions.
The color is repellent, nearly revolting; a smoldering unclean yellow, strangely faded by the slow– turning sunlight.” When evaluating the first section of the passage, on understands that she is referring to the unnoticeable mask she has actually put on. She tries to hide that she is still deeply bothered by pretending to be happy and in control, however tiring it might be.
And yet, this “illness,” if you will, aggravates her to no end, as does the wallpaper. She is mad with her partner because he believes this illness isn’t as serious as it really is.
Anger towards one’s partner or other member of the family is also a sign of postpartum depression. Then … she discusses something rather … striking. She states, “When you follow the lame unpredictable curves for a little range they suddenly devote suicide– plunge off at outrageous angles, ruin themselves in unusual contradictions.” Even after a short time of sustaining serious anxiety, one can feel overwhelmed with unhappiness and sorrow, and they start having reoccurring ideas of suicide.
She hesitates she is going to end up being ridiculous, and take the “plunge …” perhaps off a bridge? Above all, she is afraid she is going to damage her newborn child. If, by her own hands, her baby is harmed, she will be damaged from the within- out since a brand-new child is supposed to be something happy … a jubilant celebration, however her anxiety is avoiding just that. She dislikes feeling this way. She thinks it to be “revolting,” like the horrible yellow of the wallpaper.
But, if one looks closely, one will see that there is a little bit of light in her reasoning. She says it’s “oddly faded by the slow-turning sunlight.” Through time, all be it slow, the disease will begin to disappear and inevitably disappear altogether. Through discomfort, and misfortune … through unhappiness and irritation … there is always hope. The tiniest light in the darkest cave, there is hope. And she wishes to keep it as long as she can … until the last little strength she has actually left dissipates entirely … … There is hope.