In the land of Oz, there lived a truly wicked and sinister witch known as the Wicked Witch of the West. Unlike her sister, the Wicked Witch of the East, who met her demise early on in the story, the Witch of the West was determined to maintain her power and control over the land. With her emerald green skin, sharp features, and flowing black cloak, the Witch of the West was a formidable figure. Her cackling laugh and cold, calculating eyes struck fear into the hearts of all who crossed her path. She was not to be underestimated - for she possessed extraordinary powers that enabled her to cast spells and curses on anyone who dared to challenge her. One of the most iconic elements of the Witch of the West's appearance was her pointed hat, adorned with a large, silver-colored brooch.
One of the most iconic elements of the Witch of the West's appearance was her pointed hat, adorned with a large, silver-colored brooch. This brooch was said to contain a magical jewel that enhanced the witch's powers. Legend had it that the brooch was a family heirloom, passed down through generations of wicked witches.
Befriending the Witch: Anxiety as Helper
When my daughter was in kindergarten, she made her acting debut as a Munchkin in her elementary school’s performance of The Wizard of Oz. On the day of the play, she had stayed after school with her fellow young cast members to rehearse and prepare for the show. That afternoon, I got a call from one of the school administrators asking me to pick her up immediately and take her home because she was anxious, crying and saying she didn’t want to perform. I wasn’t entirely surprised at receiving this phone call; my daughter had always been a highly sensitive child, and had a tendency toward anxiety. But she always relished new activities and didn’t often shy away from social opportunities. Her anxiety usually was in response to external stimuli: loud noises, thunderstorms, scary visual images. So my motherly instinct told me that her fear this time was likely not about performing. But of course I jumped in the car and dashed to the school. After I wrapped her in big mama bear hugs and wiped away her tears, she admitted to me the real reason she was afraid: the Wicked Witch of the West. And more specifically, her evil laugh.
Suddenly I remembered hearing that very laugh when I had volunteered at one of the rehearsals. And it was eerily convincing! Especially when emitted from the vocal cords of a 5 th grader. And although developmentally my daughter was old enough to distinguish appearance from reality, and of course knew that the witch was not really a witch, her deep capacity for empathy and vivid imagination was more powerful than that knowledge. Her reaction to the witch is a perfect analogy for what happens when anxiety itself, or any strong emotion, seizes us: our rational brain gets overridden. The emotional experience is far more powerful and convincing than any information to the contrary—however reasonable, accurate, or obvious.
I could have tried to comfort my daughter by reminding her of the rational info: It’s all right, she’s just another kid, she’s not a real witch! But that fact was nowhere near as affecting as the visceral terror she felt upon hearing that wicked laugh. The terror that made her want to cry for Mom to take her home immediately rather than perform in the play that she had been so excited about for weeks.
But I knew she could do it, and that deep down she really wanted to. To help her accomplish it, I could think of only one way. I asked her if she had ever met and spoken to the girl who played the witch. She shook her head no and her little face scrunched in intimidation. But I took her hand and led her over to the witch-girl, who was at this point only half in costume. I whispered in the girl’s ear and then stepped back and watched her lean down to my daughter. And gradually, I watched a smile spread over her face.
After this little meeting, the evil laugh was one of a cool kid she looked up to. But no amount of simply telling her this—nor running in the opposite direction—could have transformed it that way. She had to experience the witch and dialogue with her herself. And sure enough, once I took her by the hand and encouraged her to actually talk to the witch, she began to actually see and experience her differently. Just as in the Wizard of Oz the wizard gets revealed to Dorothy as simply a “common man,” this evil Witch became humanized to my daughter, and was revealed as someone she thought was pretty darn cool. Someone she looked up to and, in fact, wanted to be just like someday. Once she had a relationship with the witch, and considered her her new friend, she excitedly lined up amidst the other Munchkins on the yellow brick road to the elementary school stage.
It strikes me that anxiety itself is like the Wicked Witch in my daughter’s play. When it doles out its effects, you feel it in your body. Your breath quickens, you sweat, your stomach lurches. You want to run and hide, shield yourself from it. You Just. Can’t. Deal. So you pop a Lexapro or a Klonopin to escape. Or cuddle up under a blanket for Netflix and chill yet again. Psychological equivalents of calling for Mom to come take you home. Which, lo and behold, work! That is, until the next “attack” comes. Sure, such tactics and “treatments” can provide immediate comfort and relief. But they’re not (in and of themselves) going to help you get out on the stage of your life and do things you can be proud of. They won’t help you change, or grow, so that when you experience something similar again, you’ll feel and behave differently.
To do that, you have to befriend the evil “witch” that is your own anxiety. Get up in its sickly green face and get to know it, personally and intimately. And, I dare say, honor it. It’s playing an important role, which likely is to protect you. From all kinds of dangers, real and imagined. But in doing so, remaining foreign and witchlike, it has a spell over you. It’s keeping you from your role, your rightful freedom to live your life. So you have to talk to it, ask it questions. Figure out why it’s here. How it got here, what its purpose is. Learn from it. And in so doing, let it lead you.
It takes bravery, yes, and some support and encouragement. Some hand-holding from fellow “munchkins” who’ve already met that witch and maybe even sit next to her in math class… Such support could come from a friend, a therapist, or even a simple paper journal in which you give the “bad” feelings a voice. Anything or anyone that will nudge and guide you toward the Witch rather than let you off the hook to cower backstage or remain seated in the audience.
In my opinion, mental health treatment can often be too focused on ridding individuals of unpleasant emotions and “symptoms,” banishing them from our psyches for the “disorder” they cause… Thereby offering relief but prohibiting us from growth. But what if we view our symptoms as guides? Dare to hang out with them, befriend them, walk with them rather than run away? What if we allow ourselves to learn from them?
Your very suffering is the only ruby slipper that—if you can step into it fully—will get you home. To a genuine, authentic you. But first? You’ll have to dare to get to know that mean old 5 th grade witch.
To do that, you have to befriend the evil “witch” that is your own anxiety. Get up in its sickly green face and get to know it, personally and intimately. And, I dare say, honor it. It’s playing an important role, which likely is to protect you. From all kinds of dangers, real and imagined. But in doing so, remaining foreign and witchlike, it has a spell over you. It’s keeping you from your role, your rightful freedom to live your life. So you have to talk to it, ask it questions. Figure out why it’s here. How it got here, what its purpose is. Learn from it. And in so doing, let it lead you.
But it wasn't just her appearance that made her so sinister. The Witch of the West was known for her cruel and ruthless nature. She would stop at nothing to get what she wanted, even if it meant destroying innocent lives along the way. She relished in causing chaos and suffering, taking pleasure in the fear she instilled in others. One of the Witch of the West's most infamous acts was her attempt to capture Dorothy and her companions, who had unwittingly found themselves in the land of Oz. The witch believed that Dorothy's ruby slippers had the power to grant her immortality, and she would stop at nothing to obtain them. Throughout their journey, the Witch of the West relentlessly pursued Dorothy and her friends, using her dark magic to summon fierce creatures and create treacherous obstacles. But despite her best efforts, she was no match for the power of friendship, bravery, and love that Dorothy and her companions possessed. In the end, it was ultimately the Witch of the West's own downfall that led to her demise. As she attempted to seize Dorothy's slippers, a well-timed splash of water caused her to melt away, leaving nothing but her pointed hat and brooch behind. The Wicked Witch of the West was a truly authentic sinister character, with her striking appearance, ruthless nature, and unwavering determination. She serves as a reminder of the dangers of power unchecked and the importance of staying true to one's morals and values..
Reviews for "The Sinister Witch of the West in Literature: From the Wicked Witch of the West to True Evil"
1. Jane - 2/5 stars - I was really excited to read "Authentic sinister witch of the west" as I love witch-themed stories. However, I was quite disappointed with this book. The writing style was disorganized and hard to follow, and the characters lacked depth and development. The plot seemed to jump around without clear direction, and I found myself losing interest quickly. Overall, I couldn't connect with the story or the characters, and it left me feeling unsatisfied.
2. Mark - 1/5 stars - I couldn't even finish "Authentic sinister witch of the west" because it was so poorly written. The grammatical errors and awkward sentence structure made it difficult to understand what was happening. The dialogue was stilted and unnatural, and the descriptions lacked vividness and detail. It felt like the author put no effort into editing or proofreading this book. I would not recommend it to anyone looking for a captivating and well-written witchy tale.
3. Sarah - 2/5 stars - While the concept of "Authentic sinister witch of the west" seemed intriguing, the execution fell flat for me. The pacing was slow and tedious, and it took too long for anything substantial to happen. The characters were uninteresting, and their actions and motivations were often unclear. I found myself struggling to stay engaged with the story and ended up feeling a sense of relief when I finally finished it. Overall, this book had potential but failed to deliver an engaging and captivating reading experience.