For two months I have been unable to read or write. I’ve been in a very dark place. I went off my meds in November. I thought I could handle it. I still think I can. And yet…
Today was the first time I’ve left the house in several weeks. I went for a haircut. It was a big deal. I even went to the bookstore. I bought a copy of [simpleazon-link asin=”1594633665″ locale=”us”]The Girl on the Train: A Novel[/simpleazon-link] while I could still get a first printing. Even with this small accomplishment, I know things may not end well. Not being able to read has been the worst.
A week ago, I caught a recommendation from a Powell’s staff member. It stood out from the others because it was mentioned only once, and it was romance rather than general fiction. The title was [simpleazon-link asin=”1455599115″ locale=”us”]Breathe (Colorado Mountain)[/simpleazon-link]. The brokenness of the character drew me in. The writing may not be top quality, but the storytelling captured me. It’s not for everyone. But it got me reading when I was down a rabbit hole. I needed a darker book. An erotic book. Something edgy but hopeful. It was all these things. Once I read Breathe, I couldn’t stop reading. I’ve been searching for more books like it. I found [simpleazon-link asin=”1477817158″ locale=”us”]Left Drowning[/simpleazon-link]. Again, very adult. Dark. Edgy. Broken characters. Erotic. Hopeful.
Sometimes you just have to read what speaks to you. For me, a manic depressive, books are often my only respite. The only place without judgement. The only means of escape. To be without books is to be without oxygen, without light. But even on the dark side of the moon, I have found books to sustain me. Finally, I can breathe a bit easier.