FANGIRL by Rainbow Rowell

Thing of Note: Needs a trigger warning for anxiety. 

The main character's social anxiety is described accurately enough for me to have a panic attack in response to it. This is also the reason I'm marking the book Did Not Finish and moving on in the third chapter. The book isn't bad, but I can't handle this level of triggering right now.

I didn't read enough of this book to feel that I should give it things like ratings. It's probably a good book; a lot of people think it is anyway. And it's the book Simon Snow was born in and I quite liked his book, Carry On. But this girl is me.

To be fair, Cath's not reacting as poorly as the me who's reading about this is. (I'm crying as I type this, but think it's important to get out. Both for my mental health and to help others understand.) But she's doing things I did in my high school dorm. The only reason I survived there with my anxiety was that I had a room to myself after the first month. (That month was HARD. I was with my sister, who doesn't actually trigger my anxiety, but she had a constant stream of friends, many of whom were there to play games on my computer since this was before most students had one. I spent a lot of time huddled in the corner of my bed hiding in a book as I struggled not to sob until I was alone. My fellow dormies weren't bad, scary people. They weren't toxic or anything. If anything, they were unusually nice people in general. But even when I had my own room, my anxiety was a constant. More than once I'd cower next to my door desperately needing to pee but waiting until I couldn't hear anyone in the hall to sprint to the bathroom.)

The spot I broke off in features Cath sitting at her computer. She wants to write but can't because there are Other People moving around behind her. She's starving, but can't eat. Why? Because she hasn't managed to force her way to the cafeteria yet (I spent two years not eating meals because I couldn't handle mine) and she doesn't want to break out her jar of peanut butter in front of the roommate and the roommate's boyfriend.

Maybe Cath pulls out of this, although if she does it for any reason other than obtaining a proper diagnosis, suitable medication, and an excellent therapist, I'd call it abilist bullshit. As she doesn't even seem to recognize she has an anxiety disorder, I'm not optimistic. It's also possible she winds up in a hospital, but my money is on she makes some friends and suddenly everything is better because that's the sort of inane thing people have advised me to do. It's the exact same crap as telling someone with depression that they'd be better if they watched more comedies.

The cover material describes Cath as "outside of her comfort zone" which I feel was a significant understatement. If it had been more honest about the degree of "discomfort" I probably would have avoided it, or at least not tried to read it while I was going through a period of increased anxiety.

I'm not going to bother adding my notes because I've shared most of what was in them anyway. I related to Cath. Then I related too much. Then I couldn't breathe or see the screen through my tears. Then I was meditating in the dark trying to calm down enough to possibly go to sleep.

This morning, I told someone, "I think I have to abandon the book I'm reading. It's triggering my anxiety." She stopped me there and said, "Do it. You're crying just saying that much and no one is forcing you to read this thing."

So... Yeah. I'm going to post this, cry a little, and start a cheesy hockey romance novel I bought a while back because everything in my library reading queue is too serious and dark for today.

And maybe tomorrow I'll review the book I read before starting this one. I renjoyed it and it didn't make me cry at all.