My Words: Book Hoarding…

Posted January 15, 2024 by Cass Winters in Current Events, Life, Opinions, Writing / 0 Comments

I love purchasing books and knowing that I have them, but the issue? I buy and then they sit around. I do not give myself permission (for some reason) to read all these books. I have so many of them. Yes, it brings me comfort to have books that I know that I could read. I need, however, to actually read them.

When I feel down, depressed, or like the world isn’t enough, I have always had two places I like to go: a book store or the public library. I often would go to the library and get books and then they would sit on a desk, shelf, or somewhere in the house going unread. It was the feeling of going into the library that was comforting. It was always a safe space away from drama of the world and somewhere that the immediate family issues were not at. I could sit there and read a comic book, magazine, play a computer game (I see you Pajama Sam and I thank you), or just talk to the librarians. I was probably that annoying kid they wished would leave them alone, but they were my safety. They kept me safe. It was this magical land that all problems melted away in. It has slowly in adulthood, specifically in the last year, changed. I have recognized what I was doing with this space. It was a crutch. I didn’t need to check out books that I never was going to read and I needed to find actual comfort. Oh, on really bad days I still go to the library because there is nothing wrong with some comfort, but I had to learn that there are other ways to deal with life. The library feels like a place connected to trauma and I didn’t want that in my life any further.

Bookstores. Goodness, when I feel sad I go there. I remember one day a few months back, I went to the local Half Price Books. I walk in and think the person said hello to me so I said hello. I walk down the aisle and see the person they were checking out in the middle of the aisle and saying to the front desk person that I appear sad, but I look okay. I realized in that moment, I looked loco bananas to them. It had been a pretty bad day that day. I was feeling disconnected from the world and just needed book comfort. I purchased a few books that day and I can’t tell you what the heck they were. I do this from time to time. I just drive over to that Half Price Books and buy a few books. I actually did this on the way back from Michigan as well, I stopped at a Barnes and Noble for much the same reason. I had things to think about and for some reason, my best thinking is done in a book store. The beauty of a book store is that it is not attached to a lot of trauma stuff. It doesn’t have a connection to my past. It is just a place I enjoy, so I continue to utilize it. It feels like a healthy place to be, except when I purchase so many books that it turns into a book hoarding situation.

I have book shelves all over the house. I mean all over. Books sitting in random places. No, it doesn’t look like I need to be in an episode of Hoarders, but I recognize a problem. I need to read my own books. I need to figure out how to get through books and stop watching TV shows or movies. I can watch movies and TV, but it should also be sprinkled in with books so that some of these darn books can be read. The funny thing, I have purchased a lot of older 80s and 90s books that I remember from childhood. These are not long reads (such as the upcoming “THE CAY” review I will be doing). For some of them, I know I would get rid of the books afterwards as I am at an age where I would not need them to stick around for any extended period of time after reading them. So why do I keep not reading?

I have analyzed myself to death on why I do not allow myself to read books and I have kept arriving at the destination of two things. One, I worry that I will be interrupted all the time. I worry that I will start a book and something will happen. It almost is a feeling of being or feeling unsafe inside. I consistently have to remind myself that I am fine while reading. This has came from trauma, but I want to push through that and be able to read. The second reason is that I often do not make time, as I am making time for other things instead. I instead of reading, watch those television shows. I will instead feel obligated to write a blog post about every single thing that I read, which creates tension for reading. I am allowed to want to review the things that I read and not feel guilty about it. But my head creates anxiety surrounding it. I tell myself that I want to read, which is a fun little mantra, but often an unsuccessful one. I need to create a smart goal of a certain amount of pages per day to read, so that I can push through books. I find it easier for me to read comic books than books at this point. I read them relatively easy, but I have created a system that works for that. I read comic books in my bedroom before night time. I made the goal of one comic a night and stick with it. If I read more, I read more comics. I can turn off the light and read comics due to backlights on the device that I read comics on. A similar system may be beneficial for me with my physical books.

I question how others push through reading? I wonder what motivates them and keeps them able to read day in and day out. I lost that spark somewhere along the way and would love to get it back. Any advice?

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