Writing My Memoir

I'm in the process of writing my memoir. It's difficult, though, because I've only lived twenty-three years. At the same time, it's difficult because I've accomplished a lot in those 23 years. I've kept journals as long as I could write, yet that doesn't help, because the critical things that I want to write about now, are things I refused to write about then. I have an outline, and a few chapters written. I don't want to just write about my life...I want to write about lessons learned, the people who walked in and out of my life, and things so abstract that I can't figure out how to express them.



my intro.


I have wanted to write a book for a very long time now. So why For Melissa? And is it really for Melissa? Melissa, a girl I have never met before, passed away due to complications that resulted from bulimia. In a way, it is for Melissa. Or, inspired by Melissa, rather. More, it’s for everyone else. Everyone still living and breathing. Everyone who’s ever struggled – whether that struggle was with one’s own eating disorder or another debilitating addiction, or whether that struggle was with living with a person who was waging her own internal battle using external means. Everyone who’s ever felt a twinge of, “is this really life? Is this it?” That’s who this book is really FOR. I guess I could have titled it “For Everyone.” Because it is. But it’s for Melissa, because when she left this world, it seems as though her spirit gave me the push I needed to get writing.

This book isn’t my memoir of life with an eating disorder. It’s also not my memoir of life after an eating disorder. It’s not even a memoir, really. It’s more my commentary on my life experiences, many of which were impacted by the fact that I was going through or had gone through an eating disorder.

I don’t know if I was ever close to death. I kept as far as possible away from doctor’s offices for the longest time. I was never emaciated. Never forced into treatment by a third party. Never a “real” bulimic or anorexic. And I always believed that I wasn’t sick enough.

This is for all the girls, and guys, women and men, who aren’t sick enough. Because if you’re sick enough to believe that you're "not sick enough", you’re sick enough to get yourself better and get on the right track. I know that not everyone reading this is sick, and that not everyone who does have an eating disorder will take this, or anything, as a step towards recovering their life.

I’m writing this to inspire. I’m writing this to share. Most of all, I’m writing this to grow. Some of this is my story. Other parts are the stories of people I know. The only other thing I can guarantee is that Melissa will never read this. Be grateful that you are.