Returning to Reading
I am now two weeks into returning from my hiatus. I knew that would be a bit of a tough thing to do after being gone for
two three months. It wasn’t too bad once I got started and into the groove of things with writing and scheduling, checking what’s left, drafting posts that aren’t quite ready to schedule yet.
I knew the hard part would be picking back up a book.
I stopped reading entirely mid-March. I just could not bring myself to even bother with everything imploding in my life. How? How is this possible when I LOVE reading? It has always been my escape from all the crap and shit in my life, which started at a young age. How could I turn away from the one thing I always turn to in times of stress and crazy events?
I don’t even know the answer. All I can think is that my anxiety level was so high, I just couldn’t.
Now that I am moved (again) and fully settled in except for a couple of very minor things, the bullet journal process is smoothed out, and I’ve gotten the blog up and running again, I decided I was ready to tackle books again. I left off not far into what seemed a promising book.
And I was scared.
Was it that I didn’t want to give up any more time from the things I was already doing (bullet journal, blog, TV, games)?
Was I in a slump and that’s why it was so easy to give up books?
I still remembered the premise of the book and what happened so far, which wasn’t much. So what was the deal? It wouldn’t be hard, I told myself.
I had to slowly, methodically choose a time for reading. A time in the quiet hours of the morning or night to put down the phone, turn off the TV, and just cuddle in with the first rays of sunshine beaming in or the occasional headlights flitting by.
I had to fall in love with reading again.