the history’s in question but there’s an end in sight

I've made these weird allusions to the way things have changed recently even just with an answer--and all of these things, they point to a conclusion, for once. I've tried writing this shit down...and I've felt ill-prepared in many ways to go back there to the points of terror, of uncertainty--of even the time I tried to kill myself before a big surgery in a kind of gruesome way. I've been talking about writing this memoir of mine for literally years--but it never felt quite right to do--to try and tackle. I convinced myself for a while it was because I couldn't remember it all, which IS true in many respects--a lot of the shit I tried to wash away--the most terrible feelings I've washed over about this stuff and I talk about it pretty frankly because--when you have sat in the shit as LONG as I have, it's a matter of perspective. And you really stop giving a shit about appearing a certain way because--well, world, fuck you, you have no idea. And even lately knowing some people do--we all take things differently. My discovery of illness is a bit different than most because mine is intertwined around an adoption ...