Because we are bad : OCD and a girl lost in thought / Lily Bailey.
Material type: TextPublisher: New York : Harper, [2018]Edition: First editionDescription: viii, 257 pages ; 24 cmISBN:- 9780062696168
- 0062696165
- 9780062696175 :
- OCD and a girl lost in thought
- 616.85227 23
Item type | Current library | Collection | Shelving location | Call number | Status | Notes | Date due | Barcode | Item holds |
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
Adult Book | Phillipsburg Free Public Library | Adult Non-Fiction | Adult Non-Fiction | 616.85227 BAI | Available | pap.ed. | 36748002464982 |
Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:
A Washington Post Best Book of the Year
"One of the best [books] I have read on the phenomenology of OCD." --Scott Stossel, the Washington Post
Written with the indelible power of Girl, Interrupted, Brain on Fire, and Reasons to Stay Alive, a lyrical, poignant memoir by a young woman about her childhood battle with debilitating obsessive compulsive disorder, and her hard-won journey to recovery.
By the age of thirteen, Lily Bailey was convinced she was bad. She had killed someone with a thought, spread untold disease, and ogled the bodies of other children. Only by performing an exhausting series of secret routines could she make up for what she'd done. But no matter how intricate or repetitive, no act of penance was ever enough.
Beautifully written and astonishingly intimate, Because We Are Bad recounts a childhood consumed by obsessive compulsive disorder. As a child, Bailey created a second personality inside herself--"I" became "we"--to help manifest compulsions that drove every minute of every day of her young life. Now she writes about the forces beneath her skin, and how they ordered, organized, and urged her forward. Lily charts her journey, from checking on her younger sister dozens of times a night, to "normalizing" herself at school among new friends as she grew older, and finally to her young adult years, learning--indeed, breaking through--to make a way for herself in a big, wide world that refuses to stay in check.
Charming and raw, harrowing and redemptive, Because We Are Bad is an illuminating and uplifting look into the mind and soul of an extraordinary young woman, and a startling portrait of OCD that allows us to see and understand this condition as never before.
As a child, Lily knew she was bad. By the age of 13, she had killed someone with a thought, spread untold disease, and spied on her friends. Only by performing a series of secret routines could she correct her wrongdoing. But it was never enough. She had a severe case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and it ruled her life. A startling true story.
Table of contents provided by Syndetics
- 1 Chesbury Hospital (p. 1)
- 2 My Friend (p. 3)
- 3 The Letter (p. 5)
- 4 New School (p. 11)
- 5 Mum and Dad (p. 19)
- 6 Swearing in Church (p. 29)
- 7 Most Apologetic Girl (p. 37)
- 8 Hambledon (p. 47)
- 9 Running from Words (p. 55)
- 10 Stumbling (p. 61)
- 11 Special Needs Department (p. 67)
- 12 Coming Home (p. 73)
- 13 Doctor, Doctor (p. 83)
- 14 Pills, Pills, Pills (p. 95)
- 15 Driving (p. 105)
- 16 Those Who Love Me (p. 119)
- 17 Thailand (p. 129)
- 18 Dublin (p. 143)
- 19 It Is My Fault (p. 159)
- 20 Mental Ward (p. 163)
- 21 Harley Street (p. 169)
- 22 Urine Test (p. 179)
- 23 Loser, Friend (p. 191)
- 24 Skating (p. 199)
- 25 Ashleaves (p. 207)
- 26 Nursery (p. 217)
- 27 Journalism (p. 229)
- 28 Rocky (p. 241)
- 29 The Truth (p. 251)
- Acknowledgments (p. 259)
Excerpt provided by Syndetics
Chapter 1: Chesbury Hospital
From the outside, Chesbury Hospital in London looks like a castle that got lost and was plonked down in the wrong place. It is long and white, with battlements and arched windows from which princesses could call down, in the chapter before they are saved.
But it's not entirely believable. Where the portcullis should be, there are giant glass doors. Walk through them, and you could be in a five-star hotel. The man at reception wears a suit and tie and asks if he can help, like he's going to book you a table. A glass cupboard showcases the gifts sold by reception: bath oils, rejuvenating face cream, and Green & Black's chocolate, just in case you arrive empty-handed to see a crazy relative and need an icebreaker.
The walls, lampshades, window fittings, and radiators are all a similar, unnameable colour, somewhere between brown, yellow, and cream. A looping gold chandelier is suspended by a heavy chain; the fireplace has marble columns. The members of staff have busy, preoccupied faces--until they come close to you, when their mouths break into wide, fixed smiles.
Compared with the Harley Street clinic, there is a superior
choice of herbal teas. When the police arrived after the escape, Mum cried a lot; then she shouted. Now she has assumed a sense of British resolve. She queries: 'Wild Jasmine, Purple Rose, or Earl Grey?'
A nurse checks through my bag, which has been lugged upstairs. She takes the razor (fair enough), tweezers (sort of fair enough), a bottle of Baileys lying forgotten in the handbag (definitely fair enough), and headphones (definitely not fair enough). There would never be a hanging: far too much mess.
The observation room is next to the nurses' station; they keep you there until you are no longer a risk to yourself.
It is 10th January, 2013, and I am 19.