With Teeth - Kristen Arnett

I'm emptier than I've been in a long time. I cycle through days, not interested in contact. Not interested in sex. Not interested in food. Not interested in creating, absorbing, or interaction with anything. The most I muddle right now is talking with some people online that I play Minecraft with and feeling an intense desire to return back to playing the game, always not wanting to be present and feeling pangs of discontent and frustration when that is hindered.

It's not good.

I also work every day now, which is to say my time is bought away from feeling personal satisfaction and spent for waste of keeping appearance as my jobs are at a standstill of nothingness. I feel nothing in them and so I don't feel responsible to them so I don't be productive. I am lazy past a point of depressive episode and more towards a dehumanization spectrum again. But I'm not feeling anything about it again. Just a shell. Just a little cupped palm of sea hidden when you press your ear to my side.

With Teeth is about a lesbian mother being detached from her partner and son to a point of disgust with them. She slowly tumbles through being gas-lit and dismissed and bitter and lashing to a pit of spatial void of nothing. She copes how she can but nothing progresses. It is not torture pornography but a decisive descent of having a non existence while the world moves. Of biting down but hitting your own teeth as something is pulled straight out your mouth, and feeling enraged that anyone else could bite the teat faster than you.

I think I'd recommend this one, although it's rather clunky at points for its popular fiction issues, But maybe I am too jaded to know the difference between the necessary and not.