If Wurtzel had gone more in depth with the topics she brings up in the epilogue about the nation's shift towards psychopharmacology and automatic gratification, this . As it is, the book is horribly mistitled- she doesn't address her experience with Prozac until the final chapters.

As a memoir, it could have been more centered and deliberate- but I understand why it's not. Having several friends who have gone through depression (many in almost the same words as Wurtzel), I understand that the illness doesn't lend itself the linear, rational plotline I'd like it to. The writing gets overly self-pitiful at times (think Bella of Twilight fame), but has rare instances of wit.

Something random that bugged me- in the Acknowledgements, she goes over how grateful she is to her editors, Bob Dylan, her cat, etc. But there's not a word about her mother (who admittedly was often more harm than good, but tried her best in a human way) and, more surprisingly, nothing about Dr Sterling- the therapist she claims over and over saved her life.

It was like sawdust, the unhappiness: it infiltrated everything, everything was a problem, everything made her cry - school, homework, boyfriends, the future, the lack of future, the uncertainty of future, fear of future, fear in general- but it was so hard to say exactly what the problem was in the first place. - Melanie Thernstrom, The Dead Girl

I thought I was the only person who felt this way... it's great to see that I'm not. This book was truly inspiring, how a woman could go through such hardships from such a young age, and manage to get through the battles. Sometimes I would think shes very self-centered because having gone through it myself, I wasn't surrounded with so many people and friends that I could tell like she did. She also was being put through a Harvard education, travelled wherever she wanted to travel, and had no problems fitting in anywhere. She experimented with drugs, had no one telling her she couldn't do anything, and was still so unhappy.

I never knew all those things about Prozac, about how many people in this country feel the same way. I learned about so many prescriptions and depression statistics, and even books and movies that I will see after having read this book. I'd recommend it to anyone looking for inspiration, or just anyone who thinks they're the only one that feels that there is no way to run away from themselves, because in actuality there isn't. You just need to learn how to make yourself happy.

I think I missed something while reading this because people keep talking about what a great and brilliant writer Wurtzel is but I don't get it? Is it just the fact that she manages to make tons of allusions, actually not even allusions but explicit references to things that are supposed to be signifiers of someone with a college education like Kant or Marx? This legitimately reminded me of that joke about the New Yorker being for people whose identity revolves around being well read college educated types. I am not even going to talk about the mess that is her need for affirmation of her sickness and being sicker than everyone, which is completely explicit in the epilogue when she laments how many people are on prozac. And there was an afterword added in 2017 that somehow managed to make the election of Trump about progress and her role in it and the creation of the genre of memoir, which when I tried to back up with other things about the history of memoirs I couldn't find. I mostly just read this because I had bought it a while back but this was a mistake, I don't enjoy memoirs and I can't stand reading about mental illness any longer, especially as I concentrate on staying healthy myself. I know other people enjoyed it, and there are aspects of the book where I felt some of her experiences of being ill related to mine, but mostly I felt as if it was another plea for validation and to be seen and I just feel turned off when someone's only shtick is their illness. I will give her credit for acknowledging that she has that problem, but that doesn't mean much when she seems to have failed to have addressed it at all in two decades to be quite honest. So yeah this was totally not for me, especially not at this point in my life, maybe if I was like 13 I would've identified but now I'm just like this was a pointless thing to read that gave me zero new insight into anything. And like I said I don't see what about it makes it beautifully written, it wasn't even marginally okay writing, some of it just felt bad. The other reviews seem to be good though so maybe it's just me.

I loved his book.

Wurtzel does a brilliant job detailing the devastating depression she goes through. In the closing, she said one of the hard things was justifying why she had to write this book, when there are so many other serious problems out there. But depression is one of them...it is a huge and growing problem and the author does a powerful job showing the ravaging, exhausting, all-consuming effects of said depression. The biggest insight I gained out of this book was that it as so damn hard being depressed...that it took all your energy to do anything, and when feeling like things will never get better, even eating can just seem to much. One really does get a sense of the weight a chronic-depressive carries on their shoulders....

Looking back on the original review, I said her appearance, gender and race meant her experience meant it shouldn't be viewed as totemic for all of those who suffer from depression. Now I wonder how her appearance impacted her depression. Did her attractiveness mean it took longer to hit bottom because it was easier to not think about certain things? Did her attractiveness mean she was subjected to more negative crap than she would have if she just looked regular? I honestly have no idea. Does depression feel the same no matter your age, gender or appearance? I have no idea. I am simply grateful I haven't had to feel such things in my own life.

"Every person who has experienced a severe depression has his own sad, awful tale to tell, his own mess to live through. Sadly, Kurt Cobain will never get that far. Every day I thank God that I did."

Prozac Nation is an incredibly powerful, strong, and real written memoir of Elizabeth Wurtzel. I feel strangely attached to this book and her character. I've found myself relating to many many silly little paragraphs, to the point it almost made me wanna rip off my skin lol
Prozac Nation is a great read i would definitely recommend to anyone, especially to those who struggle mentally, since it can leave a good impact on you in the end.
Once you finish this book, you're like "damn! someone finally understands me and the way my brain works!" , its crazy.
It might not be a 5 star experience for everyone, but it surely is for me. I enjoyed every single page and now i need to process and try to find a way to deal with the words i practically inhaled.

Dnf. Just made me sad and frustrated, maybe a bit too close to the bone lol. Might go back one day

Okay, depression sucks. I get that. I can't imagine having to live with that kind of debilitation.

But this book made me want to shake the author for being so whiny, bratty, and just plain old selfish. The entire book is a re-telling of how she had been dealt a bad hand and how her life stunk, even though she was really no different from millions of other people. After the billionth time reading how much emotional pain she was in despite the fact she made it though HARVARD no less and was quite accomplished professionally- I started skimming.

And then, THEN she got ahold of Prozac and it all ended- as did the book, for that matter.

A memoir written in the 90's, I'm sure it was difficult to have a self-cutting, emo personality back then. But today, being an eyelined, spiky haired emotional child is trendy- perhaps due in part to books such as these- and therefore has lost it's impact.

In the end of the edition I read, the author threw in an Afterwards where she acknowledged how self-absorbed she was during her depression years and revealed that was the point of the novel.

Apparently it's okay to be an emotionally spoiled child - if your disease is depression.

Point well made.

2 out of 5 from me. While an excellent window into the world of a depressive, like the emoes Prozac Nation has spawned, it was a bit much.

I almost felt like I needed Prozac after completing this. I couldn't imagine going through life being as emotionally unstable and clingy as the author. It's really incredible to me how certain events in our lives can trigger behavior and our mental well-being. Even more amazing is how all of the madness is tamed by this little pill. I did feel kind of unsettled by how quickly things come together by the books' end. I guess when things are so out of control and it's not reality, it really doesn't need much of a resolution then does it? I find myself wondering about Elizabeth and how she's doing now. Is she still taking Prozac? Has she found something better in any of the new drugs that have come out since this book, e.g. Lexipro? Has she been able to establish a career and a normal life? I also was very unsettled about her mother and how she was attacked by someone who robbed her outside her neighborhood. I know there were some permanent injuries sustained from this. This book just drew you in...which is why I have all of these follow up questions...

People hate on this book because Elizabeth Wurtzel is so whiny, ungrateful, etc - but she was writing a book on personal depression. Depression can be a black hole where there is nothing except not being able to crawl out of bed, no end in sight. You can't find the energy to shower, to talk, to care about anything. Chemical imbalances are the scientific terms for this, but when you suffer through it, there seems to be no rhyme or reason. You just don't care, or perhaps care too much and shut down as a result.

She writes a true portrait of chronic depression - not the romantic melancholia of most books, but the rough reality of a disease - how it follows you like a shadow, turns you into a dependent whirlwind of simultaneous highs and lows that cannot be predicted, and just how damn hard you make it for people to love you when you don't love yourself.

However, her writing style is a bit condescending, and her problems really are first world problems, but so much of what she says has described the ways I've felt before that I am almost creeped out by it. I never went to Harvard or had may of the breaks she had, but being "so full of promise" only to crash and burn is what speaks to me.

as a bipolar baddie, i relate to this so much. honest and raw.

Not as awful as some have claimed, but decidedly shallow and self-indulgent.

By no means is someone obligated to be insightful about their life, to have learned something, or even to be interesting. No one is obligated to do anything in a memoir but tell their story the way they want it told.

An unlikeable protagonist is a hard thing to stomach however, and try as I might I could muster no sympathy for Wurtzel. She whines, she blames her Jewish mother, she wallows, she emerges none-the-wiser. As someone who has experienced their own mental health struggle--and yes, even from a Jewish family--who very much wanted to find something to emphathize with in this book, I was sorely disappointed.

Do not turn look here for clarity, whether your approach is from the "inside" or without. I'd be appalled to find out someone based their opinion of persons living with mental illness on this book.

Bipolar and depression memoirs have been done, and they've been done better.

First off, with Wurtzel, it's best to read them in order. They play off, and reference events pretaning to the release of the other books. Prozac Nation is her first, and possibly best. While I love the antics of "Bitch" and truthfulness of adult rants in "More, Now, Again"-- Prozac Nation captures in a cloud of clarity the ideas of fear, control, depression, and the idea of a resolution (note: not a solution, or a fix, but a hopeful resolution to that phase in her life).