Putting it back on the shelf

Lately, I have a problem reading. Not like an eyesight problem or a cognitive issue. No, I have been experiencing some emotional problems. I cannot seem to read anything now without having a complete and total breakdown if there is any mention of:

  • babies
  • babies in distress
  • divorce
  • babies/children getting screwed in divorce
  • children that are sad

OK, kind of a lame list but the fact is, I am too emotionally tied up in anything having to do with families and babies/kids that even fictional accounts affect me entirely too much. I am 28 pages into The Unbearable Lightness of Being and I am already feeling it weighing me down with the subject matter.

Used to be I could read a book, get really into it, but still stay outside it enough not to feel anything. Does this make sense? It’s as if now, I am becoming one with the plots and the characters, not just observing their lives as any other reader. Perhaps, for some people, this is the draw of reading. This is what they want out of a book: to be completely entranced by it. For me,  I cannot separate myself and it is making me feel awfully sad.

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