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Elizabeth Wurtzel
“I need the thing that happens when your brain shuts off and your heart turns on.”
Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation
tags: love

Elizabeth Wurtzel
“Insanity is knowing that what you're doing is completely idiotic, but still, somehow, you just can't stop it.”
Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation: Young and Depressed in America

Elizabeth Wurtzel
“Madness is too glamorous a term to convey what happens to most people who are losing their minds. That word is too exciting, too literary, too interesting in its connotations, to convey the boredom, the slowness, the dreariness, the dampness of depression…depression is pure dullness, tedium straight up. Depression is, especially these days, an overused term to be sure, but never one associated with anything wild, anything about dancing all night with a lampshade on your head and then going home and killing yourself…The word madness allows its users to celebrate the pain of its sufferers, to forget that underneath all the acting-out and quests for fabulousness and fine poetry, there is a person in huge amounts of dull, ugly agony...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 even worse. Think about living in depression from moment to moment, and know it is not worth any of the great art that comes as its by-product.”
Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation: Young and Depressed in America

Elizabeth Wurtzel
“And then there are my friends, and they have their own lives. While they like to talk everything through, to analyze and hypothesize, what I really need, what I'm really looking for, is not something I can articulate. It's nonverbal: I need love. I need the thing that happens when your brain shuts off and your heart turns on.

And I know it's around me somewhere, but I just can't feel it.”
Elizabeth Wurtzel , Prozac Nation

Elizabeth Wurtzel
“I mean, if you were to find a shattered mirror, find all the pieces, all the shards and all the tiny chips, and have whatever skill and patience it took to put all that broken glass back together so that it was complete once again, the restored mirror would still be spiderwebbed with cracks, it would still be a useless glued version of its former self, which could show only fragmented reflections of anyone looking into it. Some things are beyond repair. And that was me.”
Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation

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