I bought a newspaper on the way to work this morning, and I knew my addiction’s gotten out of hand.

See, I grew up an avid reader in a family of nonreaders. And I still read a lot. I’ve got a graduate education, a formidable vocabulary, a Borders Rewards card, and several bookshelves full of books stacked two deep. I lust for a Kindle. I value learning, education, self-development, and reading. So what’s the problem?

I’m addicted to reading. A-D-D-I-C-T-E-D.

Oh, I may not be reading trashy novels or the supermarket tabloids. (I personally favor the editorial page, a meaty biography, or a deep philosophical tome.) But I have to confess, much of my reading is just a form of escape and spacing out. I’m embarrassed to say how often I buy a newspaper just to avoid being bored on the bus (when I could engage a stranger in a conversation). Or read a book over dinner (rather than seek out company or savor my meal). And don’t ask me about the pile of magazines in the bathroom!

Reading brought me a lot of wonderful things as a kid. It broadened my horizons and opened up new worlds of knowledge. But in retrospect, I see how it was also an escape from painful family circumstances. It was a safe harbor in a stormy sea. And I still use it that way today. To avoid the world rather than to engage with it.

So today I’m going to strive to be more conscious about what I’m reading.  And why.

This entry was posted on Monday, November 2nd, 2009 at 4:03 pm and is filed under Soft Addictions. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.