In the face of evil, detachment is a dubious virtue.
Facts mean nothing to wounded feelings.
my love of water ... is mingled with and almost indistinguishable from a fear of water (I can float in a vertical position - I enter a fugue state - but I cannot bear to bury my face in water).
The past can be tamed and controlled.
Food is my drug of choice.
There are no inanimate objects.