Debating what I'm going to say to my friend when I return her Dave Pelzer books, when she inevitably asks what I think. I don't think I can even finish the first book. I don't think the stories are an outright fabrication, but I do think they're greatly embellished. Not because I can't conceive of such horrors (obviously I can), but because some of it completely defies physical possibility.
Ugh. >.> Why is it people think my saying, "I'm an avid reader" means I'll read horrific, supposedly non-fiction accounts of abuse? The only non-fiction I like is the research kind; why would I want to read about someone else's ****ty childhood when I lived my own? Seriously, who could derive any kind of enjoyment from that kind of reading--and if not enjoyment, it's not like I could find solace in another's suffering. All it would do is make it that much harder to shut my own out. I especially didn't appreciate my friend saying, when I asked if it might have a triggering effect, "Oh no, this was so much worse. This was outright torture".
No offense, but just because I somewhat opened up to you about the things I suffered through doesn't 1) Mean I told all, and 2) Mean you get to quantify one person's suffering against another's. It's only because I know she probably meant no offense by it that I didn't counter it, but man, does that **** ever **** me off--and frankly, it's the reason I don't tell people all. Because most people can't conceive of someone they know having gone through some real ****, but they readily accept it when some stranger publishes a series dedicated to their childhood trauma. How that works, I'll never know, but I deeply resent it.