在寫作之前，我不能和世界碰撞

- 鍾文音

Leo Tolstoy

"All happy families resemble one another, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." - Leo Tolstoy

I’ve been chewing on this Tolstoy quote for days- it is the very first line in Anna Karenina, a book that I could never get passed the first fifty pages. Like what I said to J in our email correspondence, the quote sums up the story of my life in one telling. It is absurdly true and heartbreaking. The story of my family isn’t probably stranger than fiction. It is more realistic and in your face than you would have preferred.

Unfortunately it is again that time of the year. The time when families gather, family dinners shared and enjoyed. The time that gives me unspeakable anxiety and a heart ache that I find it impossibly difficult to transcribe to friends. I am not yet sick of answering those questions and giving people the response they were hoping for. Most of the time I only wish avoiding the question could be easier.

It amazes me how much I psychoanalyze myself and every word I utter, every gesture I make. It can’t be good. So I tell myself.

I am imagining the perfect picture of familial bliss...