I said I’d get better but oh god, how do I do that? He doesn’t even think I’ll ever be able to. He talked about me like I was the worst person in the world, some kind of evil satanic person.
I don’t know how to get better so quickly I don’t know how to in a day like that, I only know how to act normal. I’m hardly convincing at that either.
But it’ll be okay if I never mention my problems again. I’ll keep everything to myself. If I do that everything will be fine. I’ll keep all my thoughts to myself. Myself and my blog. I’ll be normal. I won’t falter. I have no room for mistakes anymore.
I guess just so I can show them how I feel and what I go through.
"Forget about the scant hours in her brief life when Sylvia Plath was able to produce the works in Ariel. Forget about that tiny bit of time and just remember the days that spanned into years when she could not move, couldn’t think straight, could only lie in wait in a hospital bed, hoping for the relief that electroconvulsive therapy would bring. Don’t think of the striking on-screen picture, the mental movie you create of the pretty young woman being wheeled on the gurney to get her shock treatments, and don’t think of the psychedelic, photonegative image of this sane woman at the moment she receives that bolt of electricity. Think, instead, of the girl herself, of the way she must have felt right then, of the way no amount of great poetry and fascination and fame could make the pain she felt at that moment worth suffering. Remember that when you’re at the point at which you’re doing something as desperate and violent as sticking your head in an oven, it is only because the life that preceded this act felt worse. Think about living in depression from moment to moment, and know it is not worth any of the great art that comes a its by-product."-Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation (via homoimbecillium)
"[He] didn’t seem to realize… he’d just been appointed to save my life."-PROZAC NATION (via burrowingpoems)
That’s my relationship with my mum minus the substance abuse.
That’s my relationship with my boyfriend minus the ill sister.
That’s me with my friends minus the parties.
Like, the nature of the relationships. It’s all the same.
I’m taking the same drug as well.
I understand now how people sometimes want to kill their lovers, eat their lovers, inhale the ashes of their dead lovers. It’s the only way to possess another person.
- Prozac nation