I had reserved a copy of James Frey’s Million Little Pieces a while ago at the local library on the recommendation of a friend. This friend and I have recently had shared the experience of a mutual frined of our going into rehab and she said that it really helped her understand what was going on. It does do that, but the other thing it did for me was bring back some rather painful memories. No, I was never an addict in the same sense that James is, I can’t allow myself to be out of control enough to get drunk or get high. If anything, I’ve been more of a control addict since suffering the abuse.
But, there’s a lot in common between addiction and depression, and I saw that in this story. The self-destructive behavior and the suicide attempts. The inability to form normal relationships, using people, lying, being manipulative, etc. Instead of covering up drug or alcohol abuse, I was covering up my own sickness, my disgust with everything I did and everything I was.
Yes, I think it’s fair to say that I suffered from a form of self-abuse just as much as an addict does. I just chose to hurt myself in different ways. Reading this book gave me both a deeper understand of what my friend has been going through, but it also helped me understand myself a little bit better too, and maybe more importantly, it served as a vivd reminder of why I want to make sure I do everything I can to stay healthy.