Diane Bracuk's Reviews > The Suicide Tourist

The Suicide Tourist by Myna Wallin

In her candid and acerbic explorations of life and love, both through poetry and prose, Myna Wallin has never shied away from confronting her quirks and foibles. In her poignant new collection, The Suicide Tourist, she breaks the silence on mental illness, revealing for the first time, her personal struggle with bipolar disorder. For her generation of boomers, these topics were often taboo, resulting in a deep sense of shame and isolation. In this collection, she tears away the veneer of her self-imposed propriety to discuss mania, depression, suicide ideation and psychiatry in relation to this still misunderstood condition.

A cross between Anne Sexton and Carrie Fisher, Wallin is a master of memorable lines and striking imagery. Describing the exultant, heightened euphoria in “Mania” she writes:

“I could power the city’s
electrical grid with my personal dynamism. I am awake, present, ferociously excited, fascinated by everything.

Mania sneaks up on me like Tequila.
I’m Maria in The Sound of Music, twirling. “

Then there is the flip side of mania—debilitating depression, which she deftly captures in “3 a.m. Tango”:

“My brain is an intricate labyrinth, a collision of out-of-sync parts,
constantly moving.

“Hello, is anyone there?”
I want to say, Yes, I’m here — But I’m unavailable, unreachable.”

Like many coping with mood disorders, Wallin is all too familiar with meds that work for a while then don’t. As she puts it in “Withdrawal”:

“Switching from one mood stabilizer to another is swinging
from one cracked branch to the next, tobogganing with no snow.

Even twelve hours sleep won’t suffice — two drugs overlapping,
I’m pinned under a lead apron, cradled in chemical soup.”

In “Mania Calling,” Wallin expresses a heart-rending yearning to be free of her condition, writing “I wish I could shed mental illness like snakeskin, twelve-step it away like a destructive habit.” The poem "Mother's Pearls" delves into her mother's early death from cancer and its long-lasting traumatic effects: "My future, set in grief. I went gadding about, an actress, a brisk descent/into pointlessness."

Wallin’s collection stands out for its unvarnished portrayal of her condition. In a culture that often romanticizes untreated bipolar disorder as a wellspring of artistic creativity, she debunks this misconception, highlighting how the disorder impacts decision making and self-perception. By confronting her own internalized stigma head-on, she discovers liberation and a powerful new poetic voice. Whether you are personally affected by mental illness, know someone who is, or simply appreciate exceptionally good poetry, this book is a must-read.