Thinking back, shooting myself in the face was an act of desperation. I thought maybe if I killed him, that it would work. It did work, but maybe there could have been other ways. I didn't want to believe it at first. I didn't want to believe that someone like me could develop a mental illness. I guess I never got help because I thought I was stronger than it. I refused to face the facts, I did need help. I always hated my life. I guess when my parents got divorced and when my dad finally left, it took more of a toll than I initially thought. I see now why I made Tyler. He was everything I wished I was, except he was brave enough to live his life. I am not Tyler Durden. I live in a hospital now, and I am happy he is gone. Someday I will
