This is one of the most depressing writing I have ever read. The lady used so many "nervous" in her writing which make me feeling the same way. I think she is kind of paranoiac and too scared to speak up her mind to her husband who always take very good care of her. In my opinion, she was too overprotected that she did not feel the purpose of living and appreciate her social status. At the same time, there were still blacks and the Indians suffering while she was creeped out by the yellow wallpaper in this nice house they rent. As her description of her feeling and the creepy yellow wallpaper progresses, I felt very paranoiac too...
Remember that the author says that she wrote the story to keep some other poor lady from being driven mad by such a treatment. She removed herself from this treatment and began to write again. I cannot imagine a more subtle torture than to be prevented from being useful and creative.
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