"I am real!", said Alice, and began to cry.
"You won't make yourself a bit realer by crying," Tweedledee remarked "there's nothing to cry about."
"If I wasn't real," Alice said - half laughing through her tears, it all seemed so ridiculous - "I shouldn't be able to cry."
"I hope you don't think those are real tears?" Tweedledee interrupted in a tone of great contempt.
In another moment down went Alice after it, not once considering how on earth she was going to get out again"
After a fall such as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling downstairs!
Alice thought the whole thing very absurd, but they all looked so grave that she did not dare to laugh; and, as she could not think of anything to say, she simply bowed, and took the thimble, looking as solemn as she could
The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.
'Who are you?' said the Caterpillar.
This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, 'I — I hardly know, sir, just at present — at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.'
'What do you mean by that?' said the Caterpillar sternly. 'Explain yourself!'
'I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir' said Alice, 'because I'm not myself, you see.'
'I don't see,' said the Caterpillar.
'I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly,' Alice replied very politely, 'for I can't understand it myself to begin with; and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.'
All from Alice's Adventured in Wonderland by Lewis Carol. I love the book and the whole story could work as a metaphor for my various problems (Borderline Personality Disorder, Bulimia, Drug Addiction).