The Asylum Confessions (The Asylum Confession Files, #1)

by Jack Steen

But why lie? Every lie ever told is steeped in truth.

We all have our reasons why we force ourselves to walk through the gates of whatever hell we think we deserve.

I’ve got my own reasons why I stay here. Just like you’ve got your reasons for living the life you do - even if it's without passion, without purpose. We’ve all got our ghosts. Our own crosses to bear.

What holes are there inside your soul? What have you done that makes you believe this is the best you can ever do?

I’m more than what everyone thinks I am. That’s what my story is about.

Think about that for a moment. Death isn't the end. It’s only the beginning. A new beginning for both the soul that passed on and for those left behind.

Why do we have to psychoanalyze everything? Why can’t someone just do an act because they love the other person?

She didn’t understand. How could she? She wasn’t meant to have found out.

The heart is the essence of a person. It’s who they are at the core, without the dressings, without the masks, without the persona they feel they need to be.

He never understood, but I never asked him to, either.

Even though he never knew the real me, he knew the me that was real, and that was enough.

Addictions always have a beginning. That beginning can seem innocent enough at the time.

All it takes is one step. One step to destroy the perfect life or to create it.

It's amazing what someone can get away with when all they do is smile, look you straight in the eye, and make you believe every single lie they tell. Not everyone can do that.

I don't expect sympathy or understanding but I do ask that you don't judge me. We all have our own lives to live, we all

make decisions we regret afterward, and we all walk paths never meant for us.

We are who we need to be to fit or fulfill a role others have placed upon us.

all the things we could have done mean nothing because what we do is what we will always do if given the chance to redo our mistakes.

What most people don't understand, though, is that being personable isn't being personal.

Being personable means holding a portion of myself back. Giving to that person only what I want them to know or see. I could never afford to be personal, it hurt too much.

That's just what being human is about. We wear these masks to be accepted, to be liked, but if we are truly being honest with ourselves and with those around us…well, we are ugly, disgusting, and downright nasty.

Looking back, it's easy to see what that was. It's easy now to understand how all the decisions I'd made throughout my life led me to the one that ultimately changed it.

the decisions we make because of the circumstances we face.

Until they've walked my shoes, they can never understand.

That's all people really want anyway, to be seen, to know they're worthy and it doesn’t matter if they are children or adults.

I might not have liked him, but I saw him. I cared for him enough to try to help him become a better person.

Judge me all you want. But you know as well as I do, that some people don't deserve to be parents.