This Winter

by Alice Oseman

Maybe, eventually, I’ll just stop sleeping altogether and become a vampire. I’d be good at that.

Charlie and I have discussed at length how it’s possible for Oliver to be related to us, since he’s the literal embodiment of joy and we’re both miserable fucks. We concluded that he must have got all the happy genes.

Mum has this thing where she avoids talking about anything even slightly deep or emotional. Dad’s the same, but he makes up for it by talking about books all the time.

Today’s going to be difficult for everyone, but everyone has difficult days, I guess.

She always makes us dress up nice for Christmas, as if we’re supposed to do something other than slob on the sofa for twelve hours.

I hate the way people react when they learn Charlie spent a few weeks as an in-patient. As if it’s the most horrific thing they’ve ever heard. It’s because it automatically makes them think mental asylum and crazy people, instead of treatment and recovery and learning to manage an eating disorder.

“Trying your best? What d’you want, a fucking congratulations certificate?”

i’m the novelty gay mentally ill cousin

When people know you’re mentally ill, most people either want to ignore it completely or they treat you like you’re strange, scary, or fascinating. Very few people are actually good at the middle ground.

The middle ground isn’t hard. It’s just being there. Being helpful, if help is needed. Being understanding, even if they don’t understand everything.

“I think sometimes you’re so scared of being a burden that it makes you terrified to ask for help.

First Charlie disappeared, and then Tori disappeared, and I’m starting to wonder whether I’m next. Nobody seems to be saying anything about it, which makes me wonder whether my family is behind it, and they’ve all been possessed by some ghosts or evil dinosaurs or something.

“They’ve just gone out for a little bit.” “Have they been kidnapped?”

Nick is Charlie’s boyfriend, who comes round our house all the time. I think they’ll probably get married one day so they can have their own house and not have to walk to each other’s houses every single day.

“You could just say sorry,” I say. “That’s what you have to do when you say something bad. Say sorry.”