I was telling Brian what a cushy life my mother has. "I was over there when she got home from the pool," I said; "she was complaining how terrible it was that the water kept seeping through her goggles. I thought, 'Water seeping through the goggles! That's her biggest complaint in life!' " Brian said, "She's in this world just like you are. You can't handle life--she can. She's in the same boat you are; and she has mastered life so that water in her goggles is her biggest complaint--but if you were as strong a person as she is you'd have it no different. She was thrown naked onto the face of the earth and left to fend for herself at 18 just like you. You have no reason to blame her if she's soared in life to the point where she has no complaints--just because you can't get yourself to quit drinking or get a job." He's right; I know he's right; I cannot live and master life as my mother has; I cannot handle life at all, it's too overwhelming and cruel; my mother had it no better than I, and she hasn't known suffering worse than the corns in her feet. But she came into this world as naked as I did--and look what she has done for herself, while I flounder and flail throughout my day, unable to make any changes, slowly slipping into the ultimate failure & shame of suicide. I have set up a fortress to guard myself against the world, and the enemy is undermining my fortress from below, and it won't be long before the walls cave and I am crushed. . . . I know many suicides have been on the road I have taken, and I cannot get myself to change course, to do anything different, to go out into the world and expose myself to what terrifies me. I sit in my fortress with my supplies, keeping myself always from the emotional danger & social distress I fear will destroy me . . . and slowly I realize I am what is destroying me, slowly I realize my very defenses are what is doing me in for good.