Fear that I was very different from everyone else. Fear that deep down inside I was a shallow fraud, that after the revolution or after Jesus came down to straighten everything out, everyone from hippies to hard-hats would unfold and blossom into the beautiful people they were while I would remain a gnarled little wart in the corner, oozing bile and giving off putrid smells.

Colds, ulcers, flu, and cancer are things we get. Schizophrenia is something we are.

Knowing that you're crazy doesn't make the crazy things stop happening.

Life for the unwell is discontinuous and unpredictable. Things just come out of nowhere. People try but mostly do a lousy job of taking care of you.

Most adults have forgotten what they had to do to survive childhood.

Well, I thought, last night I paid my dues. I faced death. Now I can stay.

My only hope was to be polite.