If Killing Yourself Is Not An Option

Now That He's Gone, I Feel Like I'm A Senior Citizen Who Gave Away Her Life Savings Over The Phone. And This Is The Crux: I Never In My Life Believed In Someone As Much As I Believed In Him. The Shame Is Overwhelming.

I Envied Women With Signature Hair-dos, Signature Perfumes, Signature Sign-offs. Novelists Who Tell Vogue Magazine: “i Can’t Live Without My Smythson Notebook, Pomegranate Noir Cologne By Jo Malone And Frette Sheets”. In The Grip Of Madness, Materialism Begins To Look Like An Admirable Belief System.

When You Live With Voices In Your Head, You Are Drawn Inextricably To Voices Outside Your Head. Very Often The Voices Work To Confirm Your Worst Suspicions. Or Think Of Things You Could Never Have Imagined! There Are Only So Many Hours Of The Day To Hate Yourself.

If You Don't Know Who You Are, Madness Gives You Something To Believe In.

Thank God The Internet Didn't Exist When I Was 15, 16. I Knew People Were Tearing Me Apart, But My God, If There Had Been A Net And Commenters And I Would Have Been Reading Them - It Was Bad Enough As It Was. To Grow Up In The Media Eye, I'm Glad It Happened, But That Was Definitely Not Healthy Being Around Adults All The Time.