JUN. 09, 2021 By Autumn Kleiner I was 16 when I came across “Prozac Nation: Young and Depressed in America” on the 50-cent shelf in the used bookstore by my house. I was horribly anxious, and had recently been prescribed Prozac myself, so the name immediately caught my attention. I added the book to my pile and made my way to the register, completely unaware of the major impact that Elizabeth Wurtzel’s 1994 memoir would have on me. Not only did Wurtzel’s firsthand account of experiencing mental illness and finding self-awareness manage to steal thoughts right from my brain, but her stream-of-consciousness writing style amazed me. From the frantic thoughts leading up to her first suicide attempt to the meaningless sexual encounters that she was having as a young adult to fill a void, her experience was laid bare for her readers. This was my first real exposure to someone talking openly about their mental health struggles. I grew up in a household where the topic of mental health was seen solely as a scapegoat or an excuse for failures. Reading her story gave me a reason to believe that I was not the only one who felt misunderstood and lost.