A beautiful story about redemption, forgiveness, and self-actualization. LaFavour is a beautiful soul with an incredible talent for storytelling.

This is a highly analytic memoir about the author's psychological treatment, diagnoses, and behaviour. Her main behaviours are burning herself and purging. She also often quotes scholars in the field to support her thoughts. A number of obsessions burden her. As such this book is unlikely to appeal to many people. It is, however, very well written and is brutally honest. Not having any of these behaviours myself, I nevertheless stuck with it mainly out of curiosity. What motivates someone to hurt themselves in this way? How can extreme pain become a pleasure, a source of addiction, and/or a release? Can therapy help this condition(s)? The first third of the book was very interesting but it was a bit of a slog after that. I thought another third of it could have been omitted or severely edited. Sometimes it felt self-indulgent. But this is a highly intelligent woman with excellent analytical skills and it must have taken both strength and resilience to be able to write this book.

When I first began reading this memoir by Cree LeFavour titled, "Lights On, Rats Out" it became so utterly brutal, describing how she would go through her ritual of self-harming, almost without preamble that I wasn't really prepared for it. I considered quitting the book, something I rarely do... as it had unsettled me so much, but I put it aside for the day and gave it some thought. After deciding that it had just struck a personal nerve, I decided to give it another try, and I'm glad I did. The book is so beautifully written, and she works so hard to make changes in herself, understanding how her early days and lack of parenting affected her. Having read quite a lot about similar areas during my life, I thought I was fairly well read on the topics. But this book surely enlightened me a whole lot further. I applaud the author for so bravely and beautifully sharing her story that will surely help others that are thinking about getting help, but maybe don't know what to expect. You are certainly a beacon of hope. Shocking yet moving at the same time.
My thanks to NetGalley, Grove Press, and Cree LeFavour for providing me with an ARC in exchange for my review.

I really struggled to read this book - i tried twice but was just unable to continue reading it. Sorry Netgalley not feeling this one.

Lights on, Rats Out by Cree Lefavour, was an interesting read, to say the least.
Lefavour's memoir is raw, I give her much Kuddos for having the courage to be so open & honest.

She lived a life most could not fathom, while she did not suffer your typical physical abuse, she suffered a great deal. She was neglected & abandoned by her parents from such a young age that the effects were life long & brutal.
In her early 20's after falling hopelessly in love with her psychiatrist, she is quickly headed on a dangerous downward spiral. Her bulemia is only getting worse, when one night she burns her self with a cigarette, immediately it becomes her new obsession. After a few months with no progress her psychiatrist gives her an ultimatum- check into a hospital or he will discharge her as his patient. Terrified of losing the only person she feels a true connection with, of never seeing him again, she agrees to admit herself in a psychiatric ward.
The book is based on actual inserts from her medical file, notes from her psychiatrist & files from her stay in the hospital.
Because Cree was considered by the norm as lived a "lavish" lifestyle, because she came from money, because she was well educated & traveled, because of all this wealth it only confused & complicated her inner struggles, that much more.
While this book was interesting read, I am not sure I can say that it was a great read. I wanted so much to connect with Cree, to feel emphatetic & cheer her on through her struggles, but sadly I could not. I just did not feel much of anything for her....although perhaps this is just who Cree is ?

To be honest, I'd give it a 3 because I just liked it. But I'm bumping it a star to make up for the ridiculous other ratings. It's rubbish that other commenters have found FAULT with the character/author's back story. Here's the simple matter: if you're someone who regularly critiques films or literature for being about "white people problems" or "middle class anxiety", don't bother reading this book.
For the rest of you slightly more sane lot (IE those of you who don't possess the sort of self loathing and guilt for yourselves being middle class-- assuming that your Goodreads account is a pretty good indication of your belonging to such a group), go ahead and read on:

If you enjoyed Jenny Lawson's Furiously Happy, you might be interested in this book. I think it does a fantastic job of exploring mental illness and is an intricate, raw self portrait of a woman who suffers deep psychological trauma. I commend LeFavour for her brutal depiction of herself, and I found her to be a fascinating human and a talented writer. However, I thought around the half-way point that it started to become repetitious and long-winded. I should also warn that this book could definitely be triggering. I found myself being sucked into the abyss, though I also have been reading it during a time of difficulty.

DNF @ 50%

Maybe I was simply not in the mood for self-indulgent rambling but I found it really hard to keep interested in Lights On, Rats Out by Cree LeFavour and her history. She describes her family as being wealthy, fortunate, able to live, travel and buy whatever they wanted. Her parents enjoyed the vivid, drug-infused lives of the 1970’s, at one point living in Aspen as neighbours of Hunter S. Thompson. When LeFavour was a teenager, the family moved, and her parents abandoned her and her sister to their own devices. Their father found another life in California, and their mother preferred to spend time outside of the house, living with neighbours and developing lesbian relationships. She believes these are the reason she developed bulimia, then while in therapy, fell in love with her therapist and punished herself for the unrequited love by burning herself with cigarettes. I left her story during her stay in a mental hospital when she could not keep herself from self-harm.

LeFavour wears her dysfunction as a badge, the same way she wears her love for literature and dead authors as a badge. She frequently references quotes from novels, as well as Freud and Jung as a way to examine her own mental health issues. She admits that she is a typical privilege girl who has, really, no reason to be sad or depressed or suicidal. There is no obvious reason why she should be those things, but the human brain isn’t that straight forward. I am no expert, nor do I ever challenge the problems of others, but I found it hard to see past her infatuation with her own problems. Those issues include:
1. Her parents are wealthy therefore immature and distant
2. She’s had a lonely childhood
3. She’s can’t live up to her own standards and is a perfectionist
4. She burns herself with cigarettes
5. She’s in love with her therapist

I sympathise with LeFavour, and maybe her story could have been compelling if it wasn’t for her redundant, unengaging writing. It kept on going in circles, recalling the same feelings and conflicts. Basically, it was dull.

In any case, I made it halfway before I decided that my time is better spent on other books. I enjoy memoirs. I think the important thing with memoirs is for the person’s life to be very interesting, very funny or very devastating. For example, I really enjoyed Russell Brand’s My Booky Wook, but that’s because he’s a brilliant, sad, clown who laughs at his own mistakes and is hilarious and brilliant all around. I also loved Caroline Knapp’s Drinking, A Love Story, which focused on her alcoholism, battle with anorexia and addiction as whole. Its draw was her prose, her ability to stand outside of herself and examine drinking, why people do it, and how they live with it. There’s also A Million Little Pieces, the 2003 Best Seller by James Frey, the novel sort of memoir, which I loved in high school. I was hoping that Lights on, Rats Out by Cree LaFavour would be just as dramatic, devastating and lovable. Except that I was wrong.

There was something very disconnecting about this book. Dialogue was sorely missed on building any scene. Instead we get the author paraphrasing or telling us what someone said rather than just... dialog. Maybe it DID read too much like a personal journal. Overall, it seemed to lack. progression, things just happened but the intensity or urgency of seeking help was not there. Perhaps, in regards to recovery memoirs, there are just much better versions of the same struggle that have already been published.