Sadly enough, the most painful goodbyes are the ones that are left unsaid and never explained.

Sometimes I return back to the state of mind I had as a child when I believed nothing was impossible.

How simple it is to acknowledge that all the worry in the world could not control the future. How simple it is to see that we can only be happy now, and that there will never be a time when it is not now.

You’ve got to reach bedrock to become depressed enough before you are forced to accept the reality and enormity of the problem.

Love me, hate me, hurt me or kill me. I keep fighting.

I have schizophrenia. I am not schizophrenia. I am not my mental illness. My illness is a part of me.

Pessimists try to convince you the world sucks, optimists already know it does and smile anyway.

You can’t be beaten by something you laugh at.

I’d wish it were easier to not allow other people’s pasts to create my own present.