I definitely liked it as much as "Bright Lights, Big City". It ended oddly. I think if I'd read it three or four years ago, it would have made very little sense to me. It does, now.
And I think it'll keep get more disturbing for awhile. There are particular kinds of broken people that I like a lot, because they went through a lot of the same kinds of things I did, and end up with a lot of the same... um... quirks. It makes them easy to understand, at least by my usual standards.
The book was all about that sort of people. It's nice to have a reminder of how lucky I am to be arrogant. Even a caricatured childhood, far worse than anything that really happened to me, reminds me of the things that were true.
My life tends to throw a lot of the same kinds of things at me in rapid succession. Amazon shipped me a volley this morning with a book that'll get me thinking of such things. The book I just finished was another. I'm seeing a friend tomorrow for the first time in a year, one who is exactly that same kind of broken person. Probably the best example I know, in fact.
I tend to come through these little in-theme deluges in better shape than I went into them. So hey, maybe in a couple of months, maybe in a couple of weeks, who knows, maybe in a week, I'll be through this. And as torments go, "reminds me of depressing stuff I don't like to think about" is low on the list.
And there's the (very) occasional bit of my behavior I'd like to make go away. I find myself wondering if more insight into "people like me", such as they are, will help me with that. For anybody overcontrolling, prone to poke at themselves, inclined toward navel-gazing and generally overbearing in their own direction, I highly recommend being trained as a therapist. It's done a surprising amount of good for me, even if it hasn't changed any of the aforementioned habits.