Okay, fine! I will admit it then. Here goes. I am an addict. Are you happy now? No? Well, what else do you want from me? (Heavy sighs, eye rolls, stomping my feet) My story? Why? You think you can fix me, don'tcha? Well guess what? I'm not fucking broken! 
 
 Maybe I am slightly damaged. Slightly. Damaged? Aren't we all? Except for you, of course. You have somehow managed to live 40 years without so much as a scratch on your soul. Yeah, that was sarcasm. Go ahead and ask me anything, I'll answer honestly. 
 
 My relationship with my mother is fine. We talk sometimes, text most of the time. We don't hang out or anything. I mean, if she weren't my mother I'd never talk to her. She just isn't the kind of person I'd hang out with or befriend. You'd like her. Do you want her number? Well lemme know if ya change your mind. My childhood? Blehhhhh. It was fine. Haha! I do tend to say "fine" too much, don't I? 
 
 Look, it wasn't my choice to come here. I know myself well enough to know that I can make this whole therapy thing my new addiction. I'll be calling you 24/7. I'm hardcore like that. No. I'm not trying to not tell you "my story", it's just soooo boring. I've told it like a bazillion times. I'm sure you have heard it, or at least some rendition of it. Whatever. Fucking fine. Honestly, you should be paying me for my time. So far, you have made me want to do copious amounts of drugs, some heavy gambling and possibly give a stranger a hand job in the elevator on my way out. Good job! You're just going to write me prescriptions for more drugs anyway. Fix me, doc! 
 
 In a mother effing nutshell...my mom had me a couple weeks after her 17th birthday. She and my father married because that's what you do if you get pregnant in high school. My parents divorced when I was two. It seems my father chose drugs over a family but he was young too. Yeah. I do always make excuses for others. Nobody's perfect. You'd be out of work if they were. Do you see a therapist? How is that none of my business? I think you should consider talking to someone about your problems. Just a suggestion. Where was I? 
 
 I told you I have the adhd, I'm not making that part up. Yesterday I woke up super early and just HAD to Google celebutantes. All of a sudden it was time for dinner and I was looking at Leigh Bowery designs and track marks which, by the way, were not real. There is no way a junky is gonna have dime size holes all over their arms. I mean, unless they are skipping the needle and cutting their veins open and actually shoving the drugs directly in. Hmmmm. I wonder if that's a new thing. You never know, there are always new drugs and new ways to do them. Can I have my phone? No! I'm not going to Google that right now! Heehee. I'm gonna make a note to search for it later. Yes. All the time. I have pages of shit I'm going to one day research! I don't know, I'm just curious I guess. Oh look! Time's up! Awwww, we are out of time already? Well, can ya fix me? Whatever. See ya tomorrow. I'll call ya later. *wink wink*