I’m experiencing genuine happiness for the first time in my life. I’ve been happy before, but that was a temporary happiness, a happiness that is too fragile to survive in the presence of depression and anxiety. This time is different. This time is certain.
To be friends with someone, you’ve got to have things in common. You need to be interested in the same things. Things predate you. They will outlast you. They are always there.
The urge is incessant. I toss. I turn. I sweat. I suffocate. I end up where I’ve begun with a blank page and an unquiet mind.