I went into therapy honestly believing I had never been abused or molested. It’s not that I’d forgotten what happened to me, it’s just that I didn’t name it. When I was going over my timeline, my therapist said when she heard me minimize my abuse, she felt sad. Hearing that, I felt angry. I despised weak people who blamed all their problems on their pasts. In the grand scheme of things, what happened to me didn’t seem that bad. And that’s enough of that sad story for today, boys and girls.
I’m an avid reader, but Burroughs is the first author I’ve ever contacted. I was embarrassed to say how much his book affected me so I made a joke about sex with priests. (His gave good head, mine gave good phone.) It wasn’t that funny but some friend who reads his email wrote back, which embarrassed but secretly pleased me. I was worthy of a reply. That felt really good!