“I am in a house. I am in one room and my anxiety is in another. It's close. I can feel it. I can go to it. But I won't.”

“I can't believeno one else can hearI am screaminginside my head.Things are moving too fast. I am going to die.I am going to die. I am going to die.My hands are shaking.I try to squeeze them, try to make it stop,but now my fists are shaking,and this shaking is working it's way through me.It must look like I am having a fit.I want to let the scream out, but I think if I start, I'll never stop.It's not supposed to be like this.I am too young to die. I don't know how to make this end,and if it doesn't, I'll have to go to the hospital,be medicated, force-fed soft foods.I don't want to be that person.I am not that person.I am not. I am not.”

“I am so close to the edge that I could vomit, so close that it would be easy to jump.”

“I am jealous of the little kidspinning around near the fountain.What would these people thinkif I were to start spinningwith my arms spread wide?A lunatic on drugs, probably.My greatest accomplishment here is not caring,letting go of other people's opinions.I am not wound as tight.I can let go,just no spinning yet.”

“Protection does not come in a bottle. It is in me, in my actions, in my thoughts. I am the best medicine for myself. I am the cure and the disease.”

“I am fearful of romantic dinners,huge crowds, dusk -of normal things-afraid to be loved,the one thing I want most.Maybe it's because I don't think I deserve itbecause I am not that perfectlittle girl that I was supposed to be,well manicured and well groomed,because I have nervous breakdowns,and take pills,and keep moving on.”

“When I try to save other people am I trying to save myself? Am I covering up for my lack of strength by putting people back together?”