While Gazmarian’s writing is marked by an elegant clarity that suggests a close communion with Scripture’s commanding simplicity, there’s not much insight offered into what makes faith worth holding onto — especially when it’s so often weaponized ... The most receptive readers, ultimately, might be those who believe relatability is the primary gift authors owe their audience. And if such readers feel seen by this book and thus saved from the stigma they, like Gazmarian, might have carried like a cross, that’s no small accomplishment.
Despite Gazmarian’s exploration of and consequent qualms about certain facets of the church, her memoir reads as a testimonial to the enduring power of faith ... The book offers bracing truths about the limitations a condition like bipolar disorder can impose on an individual’s personal trajectory ... Gazmarian has done us all a service with the way she has shaped her memoir.
A potent examination of the intersection between faith and mental health ... Gazmarian embarks on a measured and compassionate examination of the stigma around her condition. By resisting easy finger-pointing and making a strong case for treatment and acceptance, she extends a hand not only to religious people living with mental illness, but also their friends, families, and faith leaders.
The authentic version of the author’s personal faith journey is complicated and nuanced and may elude literary expression; the writing reflects a restless and distracted quality that suggests as much. However, both the doubts of the author and the solace she ultimately finds are presented in a manner that feels overly cautious, and many of the descriptions could have benefitted from tighter editing.
