Memoirs of someone supposedly important?

Memoirs, how I loathe thee? Let me count the ways.

First of all, this is absolutely not saying that I hate all memoirs. There are some that are very well written which I enjoyed reading immensely.
However, often a memoir is simply a 300-page journal, leaving me thinking '...why did I need to read this? Do I really care?'

You have experienced illness. You have experienced family issues. You have experienced grief, pain, happiness, enlightenment, men, women, tomatoes, I get that.
But the question to be posed is, what makes your experiences worth a book while every single person has unique experiences, and they certainly don't write a book about them.

Some people have led truly amazing lives, or on the opposite side of the spectrum, truly heartbreaking ones. Do I need to receive a magnifying probe into your moments of deepest sadness and suffering? It's uncomfortable to read sometimes. It leaves me slightly uneasy, like I've been secretly spying into someone's life without permission.

Memoirs just feel intrusive to me. Like I have no right to be jumping into someone's head and splashing around in their sorrows.

That said, there are a select few that I have read a few times. Not because they are great pieces of literature, but simply because they deal with issues that are familiar to me, and somehow it makes me feel better to know someone else has been through it.

How's that for a downer post?