For a solid year after I murdered my mother I did everything I possibly could to terminate my existence, but nothing worked. For months, I goaded Arthur Slank, hoping he would set my bed on fire, but he was enjoying my pain far too much to flick a match in my direction. Twice, I made serious attempts to starve myself to death, but after a few days Nurse Judy would shove a feeding tube down my throat and fill me up with a puree containing representatives of the four major food groups. Dr. Bonjour regularly treated me with anti-depressants, but they only worsened my condition by causing me to dream about running along a beach, grooming longhaired dogs, or being the lead tap dancer in a Broadway show.I was totally miserable. I said, "fuck" every other word and yelled all the time without provocation. I treated my fellow quadriplegics with disdain and complained bitterly about the slightest inconsistency in my care.The only people I treated like human beings were my volunteer feeders and readers.
