I just wish that God or my parents or Sam or my sister or someone
would just tell me what's wrong with me. Just tell me how to be
different in a way that makes sense. To make this all go away.
And disappear. I know that's wrong because it's my
responsibility, and I know that things get worse before they get
better because that's what my psychiatrist says, but this is a
worse that feels too big.
-Charlie, The Perks of Being a Wallflower