Love is rather impotent and pitiful: My father must have told me a million times how much he loved me, but that emotion - assuming it was even real - hardly had the strength to counter the many other acts of wrong he committed against me. Contrary to romance novels and the love-conquers-all mentality that even those of us who grow up in an era of divorce are - in response to some atavistic instinct - still raised to believe, love is always a product and a victim of circumstances. It is fragile and small.
Elizabeth WurtzelBut day after day of depression, the kind that doesnโt seem to merit carting me off to a hospital but allows me to sit here on this stoop in summer camp as if I were normal, day after day wearing down everybody who gets near me. My behavior seems, somehow, not acute enough for them to know what to do with me, though Iโm just enough of a mess to be driving everyone around me crazy.
Elizabeth WurtzelThe brief relief of seeing other people when I leave my room turns into a desperate need to be alone, and then being alone turns into a terrible fear that I will have no friends, I will be alone in this world and in my life. I will eventually be so crazy from this black wave, which seems to be taking over my head with increasing frequency, that one day I will just kill myself, not for any great, thoughtful existential reasons, but because I need immediate relief.
Elizabeth WurtzelIโve been looking for a feeling like that everywhere I go. Iโve been waiting for someone to see all the good in me at every truck stop and intersection along the way. Iโve been waiting all my life for the moment to arrive when I can just stop. Stop looking
Elizabeth WurtzelDepression is about as close as you get to somewhere between dead and alive, and it's the worst.
Elizabeth Wurtzel