How is it possible for me to be so miserable and embarrassed and humiliated and beaten an function still talk and smile and concentrate?

Maybe the new me will be different.

The voice of every kid hooked on drugs, alcohol or the occult joins the sad chorus "Not me! I didn't think it could ever happen to me. I was sure I could handle it.

I'm afraid to live and afraid to die.

Sometimes fantasies are better than life.

How can thoughts hurt so much when they aren't even physical?

I guess I'll never measure up to anyone's expectations. I surely don't measure up to what I'd like to be.