mental-illness

I have never seen battles quite as terrifyingly beautiful as the ones I fight when my mind splinters and races, to swallow me into my own madness, again.

Basically, all women are nurturers and healers, and all men are mental patients to varying degrees.

All I have is me, myself and I and we are all getting really tired of each other.

That__ what mountains do, they taunt you, lure you to the freedom of the wilderness, and it is fucking exhilarating.

The child psychologist's clinic: where imaginary friends go to die, where dreams go to burn, where creativity goes to drown.

It has been said of dreams that they are a 'controlled psychosis,' or, put another way, a psychosis is a dream breaking through during waking hours.

Many call it the 1000 yard stare and can't realize the pain when PTSD takes us there

PTSD in its rawest form is a death sentence which causes many veterans and others to execute themselves in hope to be free.

We are Craiglockhart's success stories. Look at us. We don't remember, we don't feel, we don't think - at least beyond the confines of what's needed to do the job. By any proper civilized standard (but what does that mean now?) we are objects of horror. But our nerves are completely steady. And we are still alive.

__ore than GM Foods I am afraid of GMM People. Genetically and Mentally Mutated People. The Entire Ecosystem Mutates.

I wasn't sure if it was safe for me to be sharing time and space with other people, who all seemed so much gentler and safer and less of a secret to themselves than I felt I was.

She said once that time is nothing to me but a series of bookmarks that I use to jump back and forth through the text of my life, returning again and again to the events that mark me in the eyes of my more astute colleagues, as bearing all the characteristics of the classic melancholic.

We're here to work, not to make friends,

Anybody can look at you. It's quite rare to find someone who sees the same world you see.

There is such a thing as crazy-mother bonding. . . . It happens when one realizes the other also has had a crazy mother, and it is both painful and pleasurable. There are more crazy mothers than you might think.

Mandy would much rather have imaginary friends who were real than real friends who were imaginary.

Geraldine keeps her eyes trained on him as she slowly reaches into her purse, wrapping her fingers around her gun. __Callo, I__ so sorry that your life ended up this way,_ she sighs as she gets out of her side of the car, her feet burning from the cold as her high heels sink into the fallen snow. __ren__ you scared?_____ you, Geraldine_ I fell into the same trap as you, anyway,_ Callo answers. His large eyes are shining with tears, but he doesn__ seem afraid in the least. __The dead don__ feel anything, you know_ not even guilt or regret. So, what is there to be afraid of?

As she fell, Esther wasn__ worried about being blown off course and plummeting into the rocks below. She wasn__ worried about hitting the shallows and pin diving to the ocean floor and shattering her spine. She wasn__ even worried about Cthulhu. (Okay, maybe a little.) What she worried about was Eugene__ willingness to jump. The way he glanced down at the water far below and looked at it like it was home. The way he stepped lightly from the cliff__ edge, and the way he fell through the air faster than she did, dragged down by earth__ magnetic field. The way he flickered in the sunlight as he hit the water, the same way Tyler Durden flashed on-screen four times before you saw him solidly. Foreshadowing the twist to come. Eugene was afraid of demons, and monsters, and above all the dark, but he was not afraid of death. That scared her more than anything.