May 19th, 1995, I was 27
I am on Prozac, still, and I am not doing too good at all lately. The only thing that cheers me up is eating or buying something, but that only lasts for a couple of hours. My husband, and my two daughters are the only ones that make life worth even trying to bare it. I feel worthless, tired and bored and I hate life. There must not be any hope for me, if prozac doesn’t work. When is life going to get better? One day I am going to tell this rotten world goodbye for good. (It may be sooner than everyone thinks). ~~~~~I was so miserable, and didn’t even know the real reason why. That’s the reason for the book I wrote, I don’t want anyone to think they’re crazy, if you’ve been through sexual abuse, you won’t be happy until you face it head on.