Sad Janet: A Novel

by Lucie Britsch

People don’t like this sadness of mine. They’ll do anything to pretend it’s not there, that I’m not there.

Happiness is not on my radar. I want other things. Like control over my life, my body. Like being able to get through a day without feeling like I’m doing it wrong. I want to feel all my feelings, not swallow them,

and if they swallow me, so be it.

It’s enough to make you want to kill yourself, but we’re a no-kill shelter.

All the tiny sadnesses will build up until they make you into whatever monster you are that keeps you up at night. They tell you it’s

under your bed or in your closet, because if they tell you it’s going to be inside you, there’s no coming back from that.