“I feelemptyconfusedhurtnumbdisorientedmadvulnerableinsignificantblurrytiredsweatyoverwhelmedtemporaryanxious”

“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 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.”

“I crave broken men.When I try to save other peopleam I trying to save myself?Am I covering up for my lack of strengthby putting people back together?I am tired.I want someone to save me - build an intricate weband place it beneath me in case I fall.”

“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?”

“I want things so bad that I force them, push them until they tear.”

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