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Kindle Notes & Highlights
A diagnosis is comforting because it provides a framework—a community, a lineage—and, if luck is afoot, a treatment or cure.
Humans are the arbiters of which diagnoses are given to other humans
“We are our choices,” but what has a person become when it’s assumed that said person is innately incapable of choice?
There might be something comforting about the notion that there is, deep down, an impeccable self without disorder, and that if I try hard enough, I can reach that unblemished self.
For those of us living with severe mental illness, the world is full of cages where we can be locked in.
“I know the devil’s not in the backseat, but the devil is in the backseat.”
“Often in the adult world we forget how much it sucks to be a kid.”
“Everything you can imagine is real.”
The line between insanity and mysticism is thin; the line between reality and unreality is thin.
What amazes me about hallucinations is the efficacy with which they kidnap the senses.
