Out of another I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with my imaginative power and habit of story-making, a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of excited fancies, and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try.
I think the woman in the wallpaper is an image she is seeing of herself being trapped. People who are depressed are constantly stuck in their own minds. Sort of like being inside your own head and your eyes are just glass windows you can see out of, but cannot escape. She's seeing herself in the wallpaper trying to escape because she is also trying to escape her depression. When she is ripping off the wall paper and the woman is also ripping it from the inside, she thinks that the woman is helping her, but it's herself trying to escape.