Here I am again with another Ready to Ramble post. I just want to air this one out because I have been feeling anxious in the past few days. Yes, from the title of this post it is going to be a little dreary and whiny so please bear with me. I have been feeling a swirl of emotions lately and I just can't air out to anyone outside of the bookish community. I know that it sounds dramatic, but that is the reality of the situation.
January 2015 started with the worst reading slump I've ever had. Seriously, I was DNFing books like it was nothing and I kind of hated that feeling (and myself). I had this self-imposed pressure to read as many books as I can because of my reading performance in 2014 and when I failed in the first month, I was like setting myself up for failure with thoughts of giving up on reading entirely.
Then February came and I was filled with hope. *cue in a ray of sunshine* However, the first week passed by and I only finished one book. I was hoping to get that same rush of reading adrenaline, but I didn't. I tried reading some popular fiction, but the size of the book scared the heck out of me, so I opted for smaller books. Then the short novel I finished ended up disappointing me beyond measure (I don't even want to think about it, much less mention it here).
If that wasn't bad enough, I had this twisted and disgusting jealousy of people who were having more followers on Instagram and various social media accounts. This is when something inside of snapped. I honestly entertained the thought of quitting the blogging community, Bookstagram, and anything related to reading and books (I know it's very dramatic, but it is true). I actually quit my 2015 Goodreads Reading Challenge because I didn't want the pressure.
Thankfully, my mind rebooted itself and I slowly pulled my shit together. Practically all of the sensible and obvious answers you were yelling at me while you were reading this post, came to my noggin when I calmed myself down. That slight mental breakdown helped me get back to the roots of why I created a blog, a Bookstagram account, and my entire love for novels and stories. It reminded me that it is my passion and not something I did for popularity and for being trendy.
I will encounter this anxiety again down the road. I know that I am going to feel guilty, jealous and angry with myself all over again because of petty things, but I will try to constantly move past it, even if it takes a lot of time and effort.
Have you experienced and/or thought of such negative things? How did you cope up with it? Please comment down below what you did to move past it.