The Death of Small Creatures

"I am happy" and "I am in love" are welcome sentences near the close of Cull's soul-baring memoir. Before them, the author provides abundant testimony about arduous, disheartening years of complicated and overlapping sets of dysfunctional mind states that she refers to as severe depression (though one of her doctors prefers to label it a combination of bipolar and borderline personality disorders). Across autobiographical chapters in a shuffled chronology, she recounts episodes from childhood as well as adult instances of violent mood swings, delusional states, suicidal yearnings, "seven years of perpetual hangovers," bankruptcy and subsistence on disability checks, experiences of pure mental chaos, paranoia, and obsession. Portraying a "world of self-abuse and addiction," Cull also reveals her serial unhealthy attachments, self-cutting, binging and purging, manic but bottomless appetite for street drugs and over the counter medication, often numb or hopeless outlook, and nine sessions of electroconvulsive therapy. Via blog and journal entries, memories, emails, and clinician notes, she immerses readers in the profound mire of her former condition. Though Cull's seeming narcissism and overly mannered lyrical prose may discourage some readers, others interested in a detailed personal account of the stormy workings of mental illness may find therapeutic worth in its flow of plaintive words. (May)