“You are the one/Solid the spaces lean on, envious/You are the baby in the barn.” Ted would later leave her for his mistress, a mutual friend. “It is as if my life were magically run by two electric currents: joyous pos- itive and despairing negative-whichever is running at the moment domi- nates my life, floods it.” A journal entry dated June 20, 1958, fresh with recent grief was heavily worded so by Sylvia. Long after it had been written, when the world was opening, albeit slowly and silently to the seriousness of mental health, these words would be deciphered as the best, if not the most eloquent description of bipolar disorder or what is termed as man- ic depression. The following months were a test of patience and a fight at staying afloat for Plath, who still produced works of rave criticism, that often people wondered if she really had moved on like her brave face portrayed. This whispered speculation or genuine concern would be proved correct, when in the early morning of February 11, 1963, after sealing the children’s room with tape, some bread, and milk aside, Plath downstairs at the kitchen was successful in annihilation. And unfortunately, this was the real end. Her journal entry is worded, “outcast on a cold star, unable to feel anything but an awful helpless numbness. I look down into the warm, earthly world. Into a nest of lover’s beds, baby cribs, meal tables, all the solid commerce of life in this earth, and feel apart, enclosed in a wall of glass.” “I do it so it feels like hell I do it so it feels real” As visible as it could be, as in these lines from ‘Lady Lazarus’, Plath’s work reflected her lifetime of unusual brevity, insane genius, and emotional instability. Clearly depicting elements of despair and pure pain, Plath outlines her struggle with depression, even at her height of popularity. For what it is worth, Plath chose not to conform to the conventions of building a rosy pink version of who she was, but rather face her demons head-on.