Then there was the time when Fight Club truly was my Bible.
I was married to a vampire who was addicted to morphine.
Vampire in the blood drinking, biting of flesh kind of vampire. I still have the scars if you want to see them.
It finally come to a point where I had enough and decided to divorce her.
It was a painful and tragic event that I knew was necessary less she pull me further down into hell with her but in the end created its own hell within me instead.
I became splintered.
Fight Club had just opened a year or two earlier.
It was a revelation to me on levels I cannot even explain at this point. My salvation, my absolution and my sanity was found in that film and in the pages of the book. I became Fight Club as a necessary spiritual preservation.
I began to wake up each morning to a black eye, blood packed nose, cut lip, bruised cheek or swollen ear. The pain became me and gave me a sense that I was paying for my sins and thus releasing me.
In the truest form of Fight Club it began by fighting myself. Self inflicted and vicious. Until I found another broken soul just as willing to break one of my ribs I was.
Eventually all things pass and wounds heal both physically and spiritually.
I will however, always know that the gospels of Chuck Palahniuk saved my soul.