I never understood the ‘reading slump’. I didn’t understand how all the sudden someone who loves reading so much, just doesn’t feel like reading. For example, when I get sick of a TV show, I just move on to the next one. So why, would I have a problem moving on to the next book?
And then, I had a huge reading slump. It lasted about six months. SIX. MONTHS. How? Well, this is my understanding of what happened.
I’m really just pretending to understand, I still don’t understand But, I’m going to try my best at explaining it. Apologizing in advance because this probably won’t make that much sense, but it’s the most sense I can make of it at this time.
The slump hit me at a weird time, I was getting my feet down on this blogging thing. I was reading more than I have, ever. I was the most excited I’ve ever been for books. Then, BAM!
Brain: I don’t want to read
Me: Okay, let’s take a little week break.
*one week later*
*picks up book*
Brain: not that one
*picks up a fantasy book*
*picks up contemporary*
*picks up graphic novel*
*picks up comic book*
Brain: NO NO NO NO NO
Me: WTF is your problem? Whatever
Brain: figure your shit out
Me: um hello?
These past months all I’ve basically done, has been figuring myself out. I realized things about myself, my character, my future. I asked myself “what do you want?” and for months I couldn’t answer that question. I guess, I didn’t know enough about myself at the time to give myself an honest answer. Which sounds insane. I live in this body. How do I not know myself? I pretty much had a mini life crisis and my brain malfunctioned. That’s the only explanation that makes remotely any sense because I felt like I felt go of everything. My hobbies, friends, interests and for a long time I was just existing. Unsure of what it was that makes me happy and knowing that, what I was currently doing wasn’t. I had to force myself to weed the bad stuff in mind and start listening to what my conscious is telling me.
So that brings us here. Eight months later.
eight months? I thought you said six shhhh. I have a greater understanding of what I want out of life. I gained a drive to make my dreams and desire come true. And I’ve reestablished my relationship with reading. I can say with certainty that books, make me happy. And I’m not ashamed to say that, anymore. Books play a fundamental part of my life, and how I make sense of the world. With every book I encounter, my horizons widen. I’ve realized that I also need to have a personal reason to why I’m reading certain books. One of the reasons that caused my slump, was that I was forcing myself to read certain books at certain times. Now, I know that I have to listen to myself on what to read and when to read it, other than outside forces imposing books on me.
All in all, this experience allowed me to evaluate why I do things and what is the purpose of having those things in my life. I was able to self reflect on myself, and grasp at an better understanding of myself. I now have an idea of what I want to shape my life into, and I’m ready to climb mountains to make that happen. Reconnecting with reading, was so refreshing because I was able to fall in love with reading again. And fall back in love with this bookish community. Which is all I could ever ask for. So, at the end it wasn’t so bad. I was able to embrace it, and see what happened. I truly believe that many of my perspectives shifted and hopefully it was for the better. Fingers crossed.