A note on memoirs.

I read a lot of memoirs. Well, rather, over time, I've read a lot of memoirs. I don't actually read much anymore. My focus is lacking and, unfortunately, my emotional investment in things is limited. I find that I pick up a book and get a fourth of the way through, only to realize that this doesn't 1) help me or 2) make me feel better, so why am I bothering?

Anyway... I've read quite a few memoirs over the years. In 2017, I wrote on Facebook:

I finished Cancer Mom this morning. It took me a little over 24 hours to finish it, which is great because it's another book read. It also means I'm not sleeping still because I've been trying to only read "my" books on weekends or after the kids go to bed.

As I was reading it, I reflected on the vast difference between her life and mine. I related a lot more with Hillbilly Elegy than Cancer Mom. I need to find a "hillbilly" cancer book, I guess.

I finished another cancer memoir last night. It was good and full of hope. It was honest. But I couldn't connect with all of it. She talks about breadcrumbs and finding hope in the little things. I do find hope in the little things, but I can't make sense of cancer through "breadcrumbs" that I find throughout my days. 

When talking about cancer, it's difficult because people want to hear the bad, but they want to hear that you're optimistic, that you don't lose hope, that you're making the best of it. People want you to be inspirational. And I'll give you, I'm amazed at my ability to make the best of it, to just keep going. But is it me, or is this just human nature? 

There's so much darkness in my story. Is there a place for the sad cancer story? Not just sad because cancer itself is sad, and the death of someone "too soon" is sad, but because the life outside of cancer is kind of depressing. 

I don't know, but I'm going to try to be more honest because I know there will be someone else like me with a dysfunctional extended family and a penchant for keeping kind-hearted non-family people at arm's length. 

My mom once told me Who would want to listen to you? And maybe she's right, no one will want to right now, but maybe later, someone will find comfort or humor or annoyance in my words. :)