From Betty

To those who struggle – do not lose hope. Do not give up.

I am a 74 year old woman who spent 13 or so years in therapy [starting at age 58] and 5 or 6 years on Prozac. I now consider myself “cured” in that I no longer wish myself dead and/or fantasize about how to get myself dead. I don’t even want myself dead! I no longer shoot myself in the foot nor isolate myself for fear of shooting myself in the foot.

I move forward.

There was/is a lot of mental illness in my family and a fair bit in me. After many mis-matches I finally was lucky enough to get a good psychiatrist who was capable of treating me for so many years with patience, wisdom, tolerance and wit. They aren’t easy to find but they are out there – keep looking! He wasn’t perfect [no one is – even as you and I!] but he re-parented me, educated me and helped me.

Eventually he gave me Prozac which, in my case, was a miracle drug. I no longer need it – I think it permanently boosted my serotonin – the glass remains half full rather than half empty. I think I am being honest when I say my overriding feeling about living is now gratitude. I feel grounded.

I wish you the same good luck. Perhaps the last chapter of our lives is the most important chapter?