I hated self-help books more than anything else in the world. I loathed their condescending tone and the self-righteous advice they gave. It sounded like the kind of New Age bullshit that someone would give to others, despite the fact that they had never actually experienced what they were giving advice about.
It will help, she had told me.
Yeah fucking right.
I was beyond help and I certainly wasn’t going to find it in some fucking stupid book.
I sat there for a moment longer before tossing it across the room. It skidded across the floor and came to rest beside a blanket that was in a heap on the floor.
The blanket I had used to wrap myself up in while I lay curled in a ball.
Okay that didn’t sound very good. It made me sound like a mentally ill person who clearly needed help.
Well you are, aren’t you? my subconscious asked.
I didn’t like when thoughts like that entered my head. I didn’t like the fact that I was having conversations with something that didn’t exist.
I crawled over to the book and picked it up again. Opening it to a random page, I read the title:
“How to Deal With Major Life Changes.”
I flipped through and opened another.
“When You Should Hold a Grudge.”
Hmm, that was more my style. Maybe this book wasn’t so bad after all.