I’m Perfect, You’re Doomed

Kyria Abrahams is … how do you say … fucked up. She’s got a good sense of humor about it, though, and obviously she’s well enough now to have squandered that experience into a potentially lucrative book deal, but there’s no denying the fact that she is Messed Up. It’s one of those horrid combinations, not unlike the incredibly shy Michael Jackson thrown into the spotlight only to become the most famous recording artist of all time. And that, my friends and readers and both, is a coincidence. Because Kyria Abrahams was born a Jehovah’s Witness. So was MJ.

This book, this memoir almost, begins in a bittersweet but undoubtedly humorous way. Abrahams is clearly writing from an “informed” / “worldly” perspective, so her constant sarcasm and insults are taken lightly. She makes frequent pop culture references to THINGS I ACTUALLY GET, being a normal person and all, which is nice. A lot of people, including me, pride themselves on immense pop culture knowledge. I have a lot of knowledge, but it’s limited to like 10 bodies of work, including Seinfeld, Arrested Development, Ace Ventura Pet Detective and Best in Show. Don’t judge me. We all have different taste. I digress. She went beyond the realm of knowledge I mentioned, of course, but still within my means. There was a Sound of Music reference I particularly enjoyed. Anyway, right off the bat you’re basically shown that it’s okay to hate the Jehovies, too, so you don’t feel bad for laughing at her non-pop culture jokes.

Then, all of a sudden, she is 17 and throwing herself at this guy. While I understand that she was in some sense describing her skewed sense of judgment by exaggerating the whole situation, I can’t help but think that there had to be more to the marriage than she thought. She went from living the life to loathing it right back to living it again, all within about 50 pages, and to me, that’s a little bit freaking fast. I no longer felt sorry for her, only because I think she started to act like a spoiled child. Perhaps, as a worldly person myself, I am unsympathetic to the thought process of a Truth-seeker, but something just seemed off to me. Twenty years went by in half the book, and her first marriage passes over me in a few pages? Her rebirth was also glossed over, though I imagine she did that in real life, too. It just never seemed like she took any of her life seriously, and that’s scary as hell. What do you have if you can’t be even a little self-involved? What’s the point of living at all? I guess those numerous threats of suicide on her part make a bit of sense, now that I think of it.

The book is certainly a fascinating read. It only confirmed what I already knew: that coming out of a religion is crazy, but staying in it is even crazier.