There Is, In The End, The Letting

Madness Strips You Of Memory And Leaves You Scrabbling Around On The Floor Of Your Brain For The Snatches And Snippets Of What Happened, What Was Said, And When.

And So I Am Feeling Numb. It's A Curious Feeling, And I Get It All The Time. My Attention To The World Around Me Disappears, And Something Starts To Hum Inside My Head. Far Off, Voices Try To Bump Up Against Me, But I Repel Them. My Ears Fill Up With Water And I Focus On The Humming In My Head.

The Madness Is There, And Will Always Be There. But It Will Keep Sleeping, As Long As I Don't Wake It Up.

Hatred Is So Much Closer To Love Than Indifference.

We Think Of Bulimia And Anorexia As Either A Bizarre Psychosis, Or As A Quirky Little Habit, A Phase, Or As A Thing That Women Just Do. We Forget That It Is A Violent Act, That It Bespeaks A Profound Level Of Anger Toward And Fear Of The Self.