I understand actually, what it’s like to feel like the only way to understand the pain is to self-destruct. Real family or friends aren’t there all the time for me and most of the time loneliness consumes me when they’re nowhere to be found. That’s why there’s cigarettes, drugs, and alcohol because sometimes I don’t have that option that others have which is to reach out. But when I finally have the chance to talk to someone I don’t. I have a problem with trusting people, and I love sleeping pills too much.
I think too much. I feel too much. I hold on to the things that destroy me, and I can’t move on.
—I Am The Architect of My Own Destruction, page 22
I’ve never been optimistic, but I’ve always been hopeful. The thing about optimism is that you always have to look at the bright side and be happy all the time. I think some people have lost their minds trying to positive think their way out of everything that they forget to take care of their malnourished souls. Being happy all the time is not mental health. It’s bullshit. People get tired, and so they rest. People get sad, and so they cry. People get mad, and so they go out with other people who go mad and drink all their craziness away. It’s a beautiful thing to go crazy sometimes you know because by then you become lost and that’s how you find yourself.
I am both self-destructive and self-loving.
Both seem very romantic to me.
—Confessions of a Wallflower, page 17