Memoirs

I love reading memoirs (currently working my way through Prozac Nation). I’ve been kinda toying with the idea of trying to write my own. I already have 5 or 6 hundred journal pages, documenting what has been, by far, the most fucked up (interesting?) period of my life, not counting my ramblings here at anorexic junkie.

It’ll force me to really look at my childhood, which is something I’ve been shying away from for as long as I’ve been in therapy. More importantly, it will give me something to live for and, who knows, maybe prove therapeutic in it’s own right. I mean, I can’t overdose and die and leave my memoir half finished, right?

So, I just bought a new ‘journal’ at Target… a really nice, really thick one. I’m on my way to Barnes & Noble now, originally to pick up a BPD memoir but, now, to see if they have any books on writing memoirs.

It’s sort of exciting because I’m not sure how it’s going to end at this point. It’d be nice to wrap it up simultaneously with really hitting my stride in sobriety, so it can end on a positive note. I really don’t know though. It’ll definitely give me an added bit of motivation to make my recovery stick this time. I think it will be fun and hard and, if I actually pull it off, quite rewarding.

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