I have been writing in a journal on an almost-daily basis since I was 17 years old. This is a record of me going through each entry from the beginning, and commenting on the me from fifteen years ago.

And so it is decided. If I do not come to an understanding with myself by Wednesday morn. So shall I be dead by Thursday night.

One of my favorite pastimes used to be making suicide ultimatums to myself. I had all kinds of them set up. If I’m still a virgin when I’m 18, I’ll kill myself. If I’m not a millionaire by the time I’m 21, I’ll kill myself. If I eat another candy bar, I’ll kill myself. As you might have guessed, I never followed through with the plan. Don’t you hate people that are all talk?