I loved reading. I don't anymore. I hope to love it again!
About 4 years ago, I was an avid reader, I LOVED reading, it was actually my one true love. Like imagine a person who's parents used to say if you read one more book this month, we'll lock away your books. I still remember my 8th-grade library teacher was shocked to discover that I'd read over 140 books in a year!! And no, not ladybird books or short fairy tales, but actual novels of big-time authors like Sidney Sheldon, Mary Higgins Clark, and a few easy reads included Nancy Drew or Princess Diaries series... But yeah I didn't really fancy non-fiction or classics genre, I was more into vampire/ witches sort of fictions so Twilight and Harry Potter series at that. I still remember re-reading Harry Potter at this vacation my family took, along with some of their friends to Manali (for those of you who don't know, it's a hill station in northern India), because even there, despite the other 'better' scenic view (which I tell you, people especially go to Manali for), I had found my ideal place, I had found a library which let you borrow books till the time of your stay. In addition to fiction, I absolutely adored terrorism/ terrorist documentaries and in very rare case scenarios, I'd pull out a self-motivation book to read including ones like How to Stay Positive or Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul, etc!
When I came to college in Mumbai, along with other basic things, I packed books, about 10 of them. 3 years since college and a few months of repacking, those books have come back to my hometown, untouched. I didn't read even a single page, in fact, they were just kept in my bed-box all those years- one place I'd never keep my books, they were like breathing-living friends to me. In addition to that, there came a time when I started getting irritated at anyone who brought up the topic of books. I'd become irritated at anyone who recommended me to read, plus it made me cry like someone had touched/ strung a wrong wire/chord. It just felt very wrong. I felt scared, anxious, and disturbed at the thought of books.
Now 4 years down the lane, that thought crossed me again... Why'd I leave reading? Books were my best friends for real, why'd I built hate, so strong, around them?
Very recently, I came across a post on Facebook which had something very similar to say as to what I'd gone through. It related, losing interest or love for something/ someone as signs of depression. I agree. Some incidences or maybe some new experiences in my life, moving from my hometown to a new city, from the warmth of parent shield to new stranger faces, brought me to a shell, which even I, at that time, didn't know I was building around me. My irritability, my anxiety, my disinterest in a hobby was all related to that. At a less scale and impact thankfully.
I think many people will be able to relate to this, while many others may have a different view, some of it including, differences in preferences in different phases of time, True!
Since I observed this in myself, I can only suggest, if you observe changes in your behavior, especially those related to negative signs like irritability, short-temper, anxiety, or complete changes in preferences (like loving dancing to completely hating it), don't ignore these changes. Our body and our mind function in a way, and if they're trying to tell us something with these little signals, never ignore them, it's best to either talk to someone who understands or seek social help or try pulling yourself back to the version you best-liked of yourself.
It's been over 2 months since I've been trying to pull myself back, get my love for reading back, it's not easy I agree, in fact, it's very difficult, but a sense of satisfaction comes, even with a small milestone achieved in that pulling back process. In my case, it was completing one full book. Yes, it did take me an entire month to read this lovely book called 'Ikigai' which in my earlier 'book-loving' days, I'd consider a small and light read. But the kind of satisfaction it gave me and a happy tear at that, I feel all my efforts got justified. I love the fact that I am finally coming back to the version I best preferred of myself and this feeling is Epic!
When I came to college in Mumbai, along with other basic things, I packed books, about 10 of them. 3 years since college and a few months of repacking, those books have come back to my hometown, untouched. I didn't read even a single page, in fact, they were just kept in my bed-box all those years- one place I'd never keep my books, they were like breathing-living friends to me. In addition to that, there came a time when I started getting irritated at anyone who brought up the topic of books. I'd become irritated at anyone who recommended me to read, plus it made me cry like someone had touched/ strung a wrong wire/chord. It just felt very wrong. I felt scared, anxious, and disturbed at the thought of books.
Now 4 years down the lane, that thought crossed me again... Why'd I leave reading? Books were my best friends for real, why'd I built hate, so strong, around them?
Very recently, I came across a post on Facebook which had something very similar to say as to what I'd gone through. It related, losing interest or love for something/ someone as signs of depression. I agree. Some incidences or maybe some new experiences in my life, moving from my hometown to a new city, from the warmth of parent shield to new stranger faces, brought me to a shell, which even I, at that time, didn't know I was building around me. My irritability, my anxiety, my disinterest in a hobby was all related to that. At a less scale and impact thankfully.
I think many people will be able to relate to this, while many others may have a different view, some of it including, differences in preferences in different phases of time, True!
Since I observed this in myself, I can only suggest, if you observe changes in your behavior, especially those related to negative signs like irritability, short-temper, anxiety, or complete changes in preferences (like loving dancing to completely hating it), don't ignore these changes. Our body and our mind function in a way, and if they're trying to tell us something with these little signals, never ignore them, it's best to either talk to someone who understands or seek social help or try pulling yourself back to the version you best-liked of yourself.
It's been over 2 months since I've been trying to pull myself back, get my love for reading back, it's not easy I agree, in fact, it's very difficult, but a sense of satisfaction comes, even with a small milestone achieved in that pulling back process. In my case, it was completing one full book. Yes, it did take me an entire month to read this lovely book called 'Ikigai' which in my earlier 'book-loving' days, I'd consider a small and light read. But the kind of satisfaction it gave me and a happy tear at that, I feel all my efforts got justified. I love the fact that I am finally coming back to the version I best preferred of myself and this feeling is Epic!
Comments
Post a Comment