With my wife’s depression exacerbating, I’ve decided to spend the summer in the countryside. I rented an old colonial mansion. It’s an exquisite place to bide while the house gets repairs and it’s close enough to make my commute to work. The mansion is surrounded by hedges and a lovely garden that I’m certain Jane will enjoy tending. Jane caused me to laugh when she suggested that the manor was haunted. Quite the fallacy! I moved us into a large room upstairs with plenty of windows and king-sized bed, the wallpaper was a bit crude but the room was ideal otherwise. My wife wanted the room downstairs but it was quite small and only had one window, I insisted that she needed more light and fresh air. Entry thirteen. I haven’t been home lately as work has been quite strenuous. Even on some nights I’m called away for some urgent case. I’m afraid Jane is refusing to recover. She continues to pester me about the wallpaper in the bedroom. Why should I renovate a rental house? Women always worry over such trivial affairs! …show more content…
My wife seemed overstimulated and exhausted, even with Jennie doing the cooking and housekeeping. If Jane didn’t recuperate soon I would be obliged to send her to Weir Mitchell in the fall. I apprised her of this. Entry fifteen I’ve prescribed cod liver oil and various tonics to help my wife regain her strength. She asked me if she could go visit her cousins. I refused to allow it as travel could make her condition worse. She wailed until I read to her. Entry sixteen
I awoke in the dead of night to find my wife studying the wallpaper. Such a preposterous matter to be fixated upon! I asked her what was awry only to have her pout about how she’s only recovering physically. I informed her that she’s only as sick as she chooses and also reminded her of our child and my doctorate. We returned to slumber before