I've written a lot about feeling like a completely unproductive person. I'm a relatively young retiree, just turned 50, already (mostly) retired for 8 years. My husband has a good job which he enjoys and from which he plans to retire in 2 years. He likes being the breadwinner.
From all sides: TV, relatives, my church, myself, I get the message there's something abnormal about the way I live. Recently for about a month I hoped I might morph myself into somebody different with Prozac.
I'm still recovering from the negative side effects which were potentially life threatening. The reason I write this is mostly as a warning. "Listening to Prozac" means knowing there are people who absolutely cannot and should not take it under any circumstance.
I read half of that book just before beginning my little Prozac experiment, aware it was written in the 1990's by a male psychiatrist who admitted to a certain acceptance and even possible preference for a female role model demonstrated by german women who were wholly devoted to keeping a home in disciplined order, caring for husband and family, apparently never reaching beyond the limits of those roles.
In his world some of his female patients took Prozac and became better people: smarter, more productive, more socially adept (meaning better able to attract the opposite sex.) The complete wallflower patient who took it soon thereafter found a boyfriend for the first time in her life. The strong woman who had basically raised her siblings in a situation of poverty and grew up to be someone equally accomplished as an adult, took Prozac and became even more competent, happier, more successful at her very demanding job. His female physician patient who took it found herself better enabled to cope in a strained marriage.
It must be noted that the author, Peter D. Kramer, does raise concerns about the drug even while obviously advocating it.
I just find it worth mentioning that absolutely nothing about my experience bore any resemblance to any of those miracle stories. My doctor (g.p.) prescribed 20 mg. Prozac. She said in view of my history of drug sensitivity she believed it would be least likely to cause serious side effects.
I had spasms which I believe would've progressed to convulsions, often several times a day, increasing pain and pressure in my jugular veins. I couldn't sleep at night and felt sluggish all day and almost completely lost my appetite. Eating and swallowing became difficult, even sipping water was difficult. I felt so messed up physically that I couldn't even focus on how I was doing emotionally.
No one had to tell me to stop taking it.
Moral: Better a live Stepford wife than a dead guinea pig.
Was written last year by Liz Perle and is much more than a memoir. In just the first 51 pages she tells us exactly where we are as a culture in relation to money9with a specific focus on women's attitudes about money,) how we got here, and most importantly, suggests where we're headed (deep down we all know you can't build pie-in-the-sky dreams on credit cards forever.)
She hasn't yet told me how she managed to transcend seemingly all the emotional connections to money which most of us, including myself, still harbor.
The reading is slow, heavy going for me, trying not to hear the constant hammering in my head: "She's telling you stuff which you do not know at any level."
actually represents quite a number of voices of reason. This is another very important article spelling out increasingly clearly what's coming. "Sub-prime" may prove to have been a euphimism for America's financial systems using mortgage lending to commit harikari. I think everyone really needs to read it.
At the end of this article, "Should You Sue Your Lender?" you will find contacts if you feel you have been ripped off:
