I Am Not Myself These Days

There are lots of books out there that I’m scared to read. Mostly, it’s the fear that the stories they tell will ring too true that keeps me away. Some might call this behavior illustrative of denial; I like to think of it as part of my survival strategy.

Okay, so I’m being slightly dramatic here, but only to make my point clear!

A friend of mine recently read Josh Kilmer-Purcell’s book, I Am Not Myself These Days, and raved about it. I love being able to share books with friends, and even better if we talk about them afterwards. Perhaps not so ironically, however, I’ve found that doing an advanced degree and spending a lot of time with school folks limits the number of people I know who read for something other than “work.”

I’ve been trying to get outside a bit more, especially now that you can feel that it’s Spring, but there is something that I have always loved about curling up with a good book. So, what did I do for my Spring Break this year? Yup, I stayed at home and read. It was great!

I started with Kilmer-Purcell’s memoir. When my friend first told me about it, I went and looked for it, and tried to find out what it was about. I was actually surprised at what I found, and perhaps even more surprised that this particular friend was telling me about it. (We’ve shared other books before, but none quite like this.) Just goes to show what I knew about this friend…I think that’s what I like about sharing...I learn just as much about things as I do about my friends and myself.

In any case, it was exactly one of those books whose descriptions instill fear in me (maybe more on these fears later). But, when my friend handed me the book, it was almost like he was saying that I would be okay, that whatever the book presented, he knew I could stand up to it. I didn’t necessarily trust myself on this matter, but I did trust him.

I’m learning that it’s the people that challenge me…challenge me to push against my own boundaries and comfort zones, so that I can keep growing, that I love the most. I hope I’m that person for other people…

What does this have to do with I Am Not Myself These Days? Nothing.

Everything.

The book is about learning about ourselves…with and through others, while we grow and change, losing things along the way, but ultimately gaining ourselves. It’s about the different types of relationships people have with each other, and cultivating the kind of relationship you want with yourself.

Some of my favorite passages:

(39-40) It makes me wonder, what’s the point of thinking twice anyway? The only possible outcome of double thinking is that you invariably end up negating whatever it was motivating you in the first place. Forcing yourself to think twice about [end page 39] something is just admitting that somehow you are instinctively stupid, and that repetition is the only thing that will save you from yourself.”

(113) Do I have a growing callus over my threshold of abnormality? Or have I simply redefined normal? Maybe normal is whatever feels good where nobody gets hurt.

(184) A relationship is an accumulation of shared history.

(250) Process. I liked ritual. Tradition. Sinking into what you expect. Exactly what you already know is going to happen happens.

(257-258) It’s impossible to conspire [end page 257] by oneself. Secrets that reside only in the mind of one person aren’t really secrets. They’re unspoken fears. It takes two to conspire.

(263) Christmas in not about giving; it’s about feeling deserving, the warm innate joy of knowing good things will come to you, that forever someone will provide.

(282) After months of wrestling with vagueness, I am as relieved at finally knowing what I am expected to do as I am petrified of having to do it. Once again I am reminded that I am, and have always been, only what is expected of me. And at least now I have a purpose again, a concrete goal, even if it’s only to not be around anymore.

(294) This man who does not share a single gene with me and doesn’t recognize anything he’s familiar with in my eyes yet is trying to begin to love me nonetheless. And the wave is here. And he lets go of the raft because he’s smart enough to know that holding on to someone is not always the same as keeping them close.

(298) I try to make myself realize that I have learned the difference between right and wrong. That there is such a thing as right and wrong. But instead I’ve learned that these are things—this “right,” this “wrong”—these are things that we are told. Simply told to believe. These are things we have not tested. And while most of the things we are told may be true, it is not until we have tested them, taunted them, flaunted them, that we truly know they are right. Or wrong. Or true. Or false. Or somewhere in-the-fucking-between. And I think I know now a little better which is which. And I also know I’ll never quit testing this world. I’ll never rely on common knowledge. Or common denominators. Or even common sense, for that matter. To do so would be too, well, common.

Kilmer-Purcell, Josh. I Am Not Myself These Days, A Memoir. New York: Harper Perennial, 2006.