25th April, 2001
I wish everyone would stop staring. I want to run and shout and kick and scream. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was just trying to be good. I’m trapped, terrified and everyone’s looking at me. Everyone thinks I’m stupid. Nobody understands. I hate them all. No, I don’t hate them, I hate myself.
They’ve been trying to tell me for months, but this is the first time I believe it. Why this doctor out of all of them, I don’t know, perhaps because he frightens me more than the others. He says I’m dying. I am dying. I’m surrounded by great yawning blackness and nothing. Nothing. That’s what I want.
That’s not what I want!
Suddenly it’s crystal clear. I only have two options, and I have to choose now. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.
I decide to get better.
I decide to write a book.