agooddaytodie
Virginia Woolf, English writer and feminist philosopher - committed suicide on this day in 1941, aged 59…
Her note to her husband Leonard read:
I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can’t go  through another of those terrible times. And I shan’t recover this time.  I begin to hear voices, and I can’t concentrate. So I am doing what  seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible  happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don’t  think two people could have been happier ‘til this terrible disease  came. I can’t fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life,  that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can’t  even write this properly. I can’t read. What I want to say is I owe all  the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me  and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody  could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me  but the certainty of your goodness. I can’t go on spoiling your life  any longer. I don’t think two people could have been happier than we  have been. V. 
Photo of Virginia Woolf by George Charles Beresford, July 1902 - platinum print (NPG, London)

Virginia Woolf, English writer and feminist philosopher - committed suicide on this day in 1941, aged 59…

Her note to her husband Leonard read:

I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can’t go through another of those terrible times. And I shan’t recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can’t concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don’t think two people could have been happier ‘til this terrible disease came. I can’t fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can’t even write this properly. I can’t read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can’t go on spoiling your life any longer. I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been. V.

Photo of Virginia Woolf by George Charles Beresford, July 1902 - platinum print (NPG, London)

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    I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can’t go through another of those terrible times. And I shan’t...
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    mental illness is a nasty thing… one that is too-often discounted by those that believe in myths and a dated “bootstrap...
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    for my sweet Chi-J.
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