“It was one of those decisions you make only to yourself, quietly, the kind of New Year's resolution you aren't sure you'll keep. I could only claim it as a choice years later, after it became part of me. It wasn't triumphant or bold; I was fragile and terrified. But I saw my life as the dead end it was. I had wasted too many years. Living the rest of my life as a career patient scared me, but so did the fate of the women in my college, reading The Wall Street Journal, getting internships or going to graduate school. It felt like a betrayal. I mourned my illness, the hospital. I grieved the years I spent in that system. It was something like being in a relationship--and then realizing that it was false or full of holes. There was nothing more to do. Once you saw through it, you had to leave. Either that, or accept the lack.”