Prozac Nation

I've forgotten to take my Prozac for four days in a row now. I suck at remembering to take pills. And I can't sleep.

And I feel like shit.

Crazy little thoughts have cropped up in my head all day and all night. Like thinking to myself that I just want to be single. Or that I don't think I love him anymore, if I ever really did. The sad thing is I don't know if these things are true or not. I keep telling myself that it's just me being depressed because of withdrawals from the Prozac. But I just don't quite believe it.

No, it's just easier to believe that I'm just...deficient. After all, it's what I've been told my entire life. Who am I to argue?

I put on a pretty show, pretending that everything's peachy fucking keen. But even the pills can't quite stem this tide of complete misery.

I've said before that I don't know where I belong. It occurred to me that maybe I don't belong anywhere. That maybe I will always be on the outside looking in the windows. I will never really be part of his world, and I've never really been part of the rest of the world either. It's like I am just a ghost; not quite alive but not quite dead either.