“My family shouldn't have to put up with me. They're good people, solid, happy. Sometimes when I'm with them I think I'm on television.”

“I should be a success and I'm not and other people- younger people- are. Younger people than me are on TV and getting their lives in order. I'm still a nobody. When am I going to not be a nobody?”

“I'm young, but I'm already screwing up my life. I'm smart but not enough -- just smart enough to have problems.”

“Doc, I'm not afraid of dying; I'm only afraid of living, and I want to put this bayonet through my stomach,”

“There's so much more for me to be doing. I should be a success and I'm not and other people - younger people - are. Younger people than me are on TV and getting paid and winning scholarships and getting their lives in order. I'm still a nobody. When am I going to not be a nobody?”

“The thought trail one another in my brain running from the back up to the front and dripping down again under my chin: I'm no one; I'll never make it in my life; I'm about to get revealed as a fake, I've already been revealed as a fake but I don't know it yet; I know I'm a fake and pretend not to. All the good thoughts - the normal ones, the ones that have occasionally surfaced since last fall - scramble out the front of my brain in terror of what lives in my neck and spine. This is the worst it'll ever be”

“What am I always going to do? I'm going to go home and freak out.I'm going to sit with my family and try not to talk about myself and what's wrong. Im going to try and eat. Then I'm going to try and sleep. I dread it. I can't eat and I can't sleep. I'm not doing well in terms of being a functional human, you know?”