★★★★☆ (4/5) One star off for the pacing; four stars for the courage and language.
But she knew she wouldn’t go. Instead, she’d sit on her bedroom floor, the same spot where she’d once carved lines from Wurtzel into her desk with a knife: “I am a human being, and I have a right to my own intensity.” Now the desk was clean. The knife was in a drawer. The intensity was a rumor. prozac nation read online