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I think a lot of us can relate to not choosing to face a painful memory, and something that's a painful past, and wanting to pretend like it never happened.

I often obsess so much about things that I can't get done, that I ruin other things.

I guess I just don't like being physically in front of people I don't know very well, because I expect to be 'seen through,' or, even worse, instantly hated.

For years I had lived in my body half-consciously, ignoring it mostly, dismissing its agendas wherever I could, and forever pressing it into the service of mental conceptions that resulted, almost as a by-product, sometimes in its pleasuring and sometimes in its abuse.

I have an obsession with mortality. I saw a friend die when I was 18, and I can't get over it.

For me, the bulimia was about stuffing my emotions. So I stopped suppressing my feelings.

I've been at the funerals of a lot of people in my neighborhood. Sometimes when I sit back and relax, I think about that and just blank out.

This is what I am. I have periods of enormous self-destructive depression, where I go completely off my trolley and lose all sight of reality and reason.

I'm kind of feeling like I don't mind being open with the random details of my life, like I'm at a coffee shop or my toe hurts or something, but obviously other more personal areas of life where I will just never really go there.