Paper Over Pixels

Reading and I have a complex relationship. When I was little, I hated how solitary reading felt. I liked reading aloud because it felt communal, but a quiet evening to myself with a book was not my ideal time.

Here, let me explain:

I do like stories. A lot. But reading them... from a book...? silently? For hours?? Eh.

I read in small chunks. When I need a break from working, I read the news, look through art blogs, read webcomics, etc. They're short and sweet, and--most importantly--justifiable. I don't feel guilty taking a 5-minute break to read an article (as if it ever ends at five minutes.)

Besides, it doesn't make sense to read a book for five minutes. What good will reading a few pages do? There's no closure!

But why don't my internet-breaks ever end at 5 minutes?

Something about microblogs pauses my brain, but doesn't relieve it. I'm not completely present when I read things online. Think of worries as needles. Each worry is an individual, sharp prick. Reading things on the internet gives me something to look at while they prick me, but reading from a book feels like taking those needles out, if only for a while.

I learned this last summer, during my month-long teacher-boot-camp. I read (and finished!) The Glass Castle during my commute, and it was the only mental break I had. I know that. I remember that. And I don't know why I still chose pixels over paper for much of the school year.

Reading from a book feels like an actual break. Even for 5 minutes.

And for someone who struggles with anxiety as much as I do, it has become an indispensable remedy.