This is a brilliant discussion...

[kitchen_kink]

Check out this article posted by neurogirl. It makes me think a lot about the damage that many of my loved ones carry around with them. I'm not expressing total agreement nor total disagreement with this article, mainly because it's very well thought out and argued. Also, it references Ray Carver. :)

While storying one's life is undoubtedly an
essential human activity, the trauma industry may have
overlooked this essential fact: not all of us are
memoirists. Some of us tell our stories by speaking around
them, a kind of Carveresque style where resolution is
whispered below the level of audible language. Then again,
some of us are fable writers, developing quick tales with
tortoises and hares, where right and wrong have a lovely,
simple sort of sound. If we are all authors of our
experience, as the trauma industry has so significantly
reminded us, we are not all cut from the same literary
cloth. Some of us are wordy, others prefer the smooth white
space between tightly packaged paragraphs. Still others
might rather sing over the scary parts than express them at
all.

Here's the question: at what cost, this singing? Jennifer
Coon-Wallman, a psychotherapist based in Lexington, Mass.,
asks, ''By singing over or cutting off a huge part of your
history, aren't you then losing what makes life rich and
multifaceted?'' I suppose so, but let me tell you this.
I've had my fair share of traumas -- I'm sure you have, too
-- and if I could learn to tamp them down and thereby prune
my thorny lived-out-loud life a little, I'd be more than
happy to. Go ahead. Give me a lock and key.