All Dogs Can Be Guide

Was He Smart Enough? Introspective Enough? Was It Just Enough To Love Him, Or Should I Attach Myself To Someone Who Seemed Farther Ahead Of Me, Someone Smarter And More Ambitious Than Me, Who'd Be Sure To Carry Me Along Into The Version Of Adulthood I Thought I Should Be Striving For?

The Key, I Suppose, Has Less To Do With Insight Than With Willingness, The Former Being Relatively Useless Without The Latter.

When You're Starving Or Wrapped Up In A Cycle Of Binge-ing-and-purging, Or Sexually Obsessed With (someone), It Is Very Hard To Think About Anything Else, Very Hard To See The Larger Picture Of Options That Is Your Life, Very Hard To Consider What Else You Might Need Or Want Or Fear Were You Not So Intently Focused On One Crushing Passion. I Sat In My Room Every Night, With Rare Exceptions, For Three And A Half Years.

Mastery Over The Body - Its Impulses, Its Needs, Its Size - Is Paramount; To Lose Control Is To Risk Beauty, And To Risk Beauty Is To Risk Desirability, And To Risk Desirability Is To Risk Entitlement To Sexuality And Love And Self-esteem.

Trying To Describe The Process Of Becoming An Alcoholic Is Like Trying To Describe Air. It's Too Big And Mysterious And Pervasive To Be Defined. Alcohol Is Everywhere In Your Life, Omnipresent, And You're Both Aware And Unaware Of It Almost All The Time, All You Know Is You'd Die Without It, And There Is No Simple Reason Why This Happens, No Single Moment, No Physiological Event That Pushes A Heavy Drinker Across A Concrete Line Into Alcoholism. It's A Slow, Gradual, Insidious, Elusive Becoming.