Your silence has been with me and I have let it have its say.

one day you think: I want to die. and then you think, very quietly: actually. actually. I think I want a coffee. a nap. a sandwich. a book. and I want to die turns day by day into want to go home, I want to walk in the woods, I want to see my friend, I want to sit in the sun, I want a cleaner kitchen, I want a better job, I want to live somewhere else. I want to live.

I used to advertise my loyalty and I don't believe there is a single person I loved that I didn't eventually betray.

“And that’s how you go on. You lay laughter over the dark parts. The more dark parts, the more you have to laugh. With defiance, with abandon, with hysteria, any way you can.”

“How come every other organ in your body can get sick and you get sympathy, except your brain?”

“Your healing is about you. It doesn’t need a stamp of approval. Don’t worry about how long it takes or how ugly it might seem. It is about you, and your wellbeing.”

Me: I hate clichés.