As the story unravels, it is shown she was right all along. She is threatened for causing trouble by propagating a false story. When she sticks to her story Nilsson, the head of security thinks she is indeed crazy. Apparently, she cannot be trusted to differentiate reality and fantasy. The antidepressants she is taking are used to justify why she cannot be trusted. She is anxious and has not been sleeping well since then. Just before the voyage, her apartment was broken into. The security never buys her story and instead manipulates her into doubting her memory.īlacklock is going through depression. The mystery is that cabin 10 was never occupied as is confirmed from the records. At cabin 10 the woman who had given her mascara is missing and cannot be traced. She could also notice blood on the rails of the balcony. She goes out to check and apparently sees someone slipping in the waters. Later at night, she’s woken by screams and a splash. She goes ahead to knock at cabin 10 which is occupied by a woman who assists her with mascara. On the first night of the voyage, Blacklock realizes she had forgotten her mascara. The narration brings out themes of gaslighting, depression, and anxiety. The story that follows is a mystery filled with suspense. It’s a networking opportunity that could open a lot of doors for her. This maiden voyage she boards is for wealthy investors. She is allocated an assignment of a lifetime to spend a week on a small cruise ship which she hopes will get her a promotion. This a story of a travel journalist Laura Blacklock. We are thankful for their contributions and encourage you to make your own. The best me I can be.These notes were contributed by members of the GradeSaver community. But I don’t see it that way for me it’s like wearing makeup-not a disguise, but a way of making myself more how I really am, less raw. Lissie says she finds the notion of chemically rebalancing your mood scary, she says it’s the idea of taking something that could alter how she really is. Cognitive behavioral therapy, counseling, psychotherapy-none of it really worked in the way that the pills did. The depression I fell into after university wasn’t about exams and self-worth, it was something stranger, more chemical, something that no talking cure was going to fix. But I don’t think it’s as simple as that. My friend Erin says we all have demons inside us, voices that whisper we’re no good, that if we don’t make this promotion or ace that exam we’ll reveal to the world exactly what kind of worthless sacks of skin and sinew we really are. I had nothing but love and support, but that wasn’t enough somehow. I wasn’t beaten, abused, or expected to get nothing but As. I had a great childhood, loving parents, the whole package.
“There’s no reason, on paper at least, why I need these pills to get through life.
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