The Seven Stages of Depression

Story for Your Thoughts

Books are the best kind of drug. For some, they can twist their emotions into a million new combinations. For others, they can inspire new dreams and hope for the future. For me, books serve none of these purposes. They simply offer a distraction. A brief break from reality. Because when the pages begin to turn, and the outer world starts to fade, the struggles of my own life disappear, and suddenly it isn't quite so dark anymore.

The worst part is when you finish a book. When you can no longer hide from the reality of your own life. And then if course, your life becomes especially sucky in comparison because the book was probably filled with better, more interesting, and more exciting people who you wish you could meet or even become. So yeah, the ending of the book sucks.

I enjoy most books, fiction, nonfiction, poetry, even horror. But I cannot stand romance novels. Not because they aren't written well, or their plot lines may be dull, but rather, because I have no romantic life of my own. Isn't that depressing? No one loves me, and the few people I do know seem to just barely tolerate my presence. So when I read a romantic novel, and finish it, my already bleak life becomes about ten times bleaker still.

Other than that, books are great. Often they create more problems than solve them, but they are still a nice reprieve from my own sorry thoughts. How I wish I could simply drop into a novel and live out my days as a character, where every line is planned, every scene is staged, and above all else, there is a resolution to every problem, so that even in the darkest moments there is always hope for a better tomorrow, unlike the dark nightmare of reality.