My fault, my failure, is not in the passions I have, but in my lack of control of them.
—
Jack Kerouac (via purplebuddhaproject)
In a strange way, I had fallen in love with my depression. I loved it because I thought it was all I had. I thought depression was the part of my character that made me worthwhile. I thought so little of myself, felt that I had such scant offerings to give to the world, that the one thing that justified my existence at all was my agony.
—
Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation (via narcoticfairy)
Numbing the pain for a while will be worse when you finally feel it.
—
