|Flickr Credit: Barta IV|
Being an introvert is pretty chill. Three other members of my families are introverts, so it’s never been an issue—but I guess it has its drawbacks.
For example, as I write this, I have forgotten I like to read.
This is actually not as weird as it sounds. I first came across this idea in The Introvert Advantage by Marti Olsen Laney, but it’s actually happened in cycles throughout my life. Basically, if an introvert doesn’t trigger a long-term memory association, then they may not remember that they like a thing. Everything seems sort of lame—everything (source).
Now, at least for me, this isn’t like, sporadic amnesia. I know I like to read. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t own so many books, follow so many book blogs, or be awaiting books in the mail. But at this moment, I can’t really remember why it’s fun.
The language? The plot? The villains? I mean, conceptually they all sound okay, but I can’t think of a specific example of why I loved a book I have read off the top of my head. There are reasons for this, of course:
a) the last few books I have read were filled with unadulterated suckishness, and the book I’m currently reading is for school
b) my bookshelf is packed away because of basement renovations, and whether or not the environment I’m in has anything to do with it, I do not have any books I considered fun at my immediate disposal
c) I’m not with anyone who can tell me why I like to read; I was with my best friend earlier, and we gushed over Fairest and Challenger Deep, and she could actively remind me of things I valued in those books—I, alone, have nothing
I have plenty of reading material on my Kindle, I have a growing TBR list kept online, I have a few “fun” physical books I was supposed to get through this summer, and I’m not opposed to the principle of reading.
I just don’t remember why I love to read—and thus, have no desire to pick up a book.
Does that sound scary? It kind of does, if I think about it. The desire to do something I like up and walked away one day, and though you know it was enjoyable at the time, it’s hard to imagine doing it now.
But I’m not worried. As I said, it cycles. There have been times when I haven’t liked, writing, activities, school, my family, and other things I typically appreciate, but the desire always comes back. For now, I’m content to enjoy things I do remember I like, like watching TV, spending time with my family, and writing—and when my desire to read comes back, I’ll happily resume whatever book I opened last.