And it seemed hard to believe that these people who were so close to me couldn’t see how desperate I was, or if they could they didn’t care enough to do anything about it, or if they cared enough to do anything about it they didn’t believe there was anything they could do, not knowing—or not wanting to know—that their belief might have been the thing that made the difference.

Divorce has taught us how to sleep with friends, sleep with enemies, and then act like it's all perfectly normal in the morning.

I sit there in my bed staring at the wall, feeling happy, enjoying the way the wall looks, how pink and how white it is. Pink and white, as far as I’m concerned, have never looked quite so pink and white before.

That's what it's like in my head all the time, constant snow, constant weather patterns of all sorts - blizzards, cyclones.

Mental illness is so much more complicated than any pill that any mortal could invent

Years of depression have robbed me of that—well, that give, that elasticity that everyone else calls perspective.

The voices in my head, which I used to think were just passing through, seem to have taken up residence.