I don't think I can dissect your situation, but I suspect that this is about something close to your heart rather than about books particularly, so for each person it could be something different.
Art is something that has a lot of meaning for me - what if I can no longer connect to that meaning? What if something so important to me is also lost to me now, like so many other things? What if the part of me that used to connect with it is dying or already gone? There's a lot at stake if I try to do it and "fail" - fail to engage with it, fail to feel good about it, fail to even be able to focus on it or manage it in the most basic way. Few things have any importance for me, and this one has a great deal of importance. It's something I cling to. I'm afraid of having lost it.
Oh Geez... Hashi you... you gave me far more food for thought than I expected.
I haven't been able to reply until now because everyone's replies, especially yours, have all made me need to confront some not so pleasant truths and memories.
I think between what LC23 said about books being a trigger and what you said about this hitting too close to heart really nailed it for me. Especially the part of " What if something so important to me is also lost to me now, like so many other things? What if the part of me that used to connect with it is dying or already gone?"
My long story short, I was medically hospitalized/ on bed rest from age 15 to 18. My only real solace was reading, especially about history. I was obsessed with documentaries and the like. Physically my body was failing me but I found such joy in history that it made it bearable. Then I was finally doing well enough to go to college and what was my major? History of course. I adored it. My professors even noted my.... avid need to learn more. But just when I was about to turn 20 I had to medically withdraw from college. I needed jaw reconstruction. I tried to finish out my year at my school but I couldn't. I tried to finish even when I was getting regular shots of morphine to keep the pain down. Narcotics were like tic tacs. But despite that... I just couldn't finish my classes.
And ever since then I just ... I can't connect like I used to. I guess... I feel a sense of guilt and failure for not being able to finish the semester? I don't know. It just... it doesn't sit well with me. I had these renowned professors in all of their respected fields who had high expectations of me. And I couldn't meet them. No matter how hard I tried. I feel like I failed them and most of all myself. Like... like I should have been able to do more. I've had many medical compilcations in the past but still managed to complete my schooling before. I feel like I should have been able to do the same this time around....
It's only this past spring when I turned 22 that I got the go ahead to go back to school. But in the past two years I've just not been able to look at history related objects the same way. And that's what I had wanted to base a future career off of and this is why I'm really anxious. All of my plans (what little I'd made) were all centered around history. If I can't even deal with this, how can I make a future?... I'm really scared about all of the implications.
Now that I'm writing this all out, it really helps me understand that I have some unresolved issues...
Thank you for your post and insight. Honestly. It hurts to deal with this but you've made me face something that I've been avoiding and refusing to admit for a while. For me writing things out makes it more real and inescapable, I think I knew on some level what was bothering me but I couldn't really admit it and own it until I wrote it down just now.
The only answer I have for myself is to try to soothe the anxiety by understanding it and being patient with it.
Just knowing that there's someone out there who can offer insight and understanding has definitely helped me a great deal. Again. Thank you. Now I can address this with my therapist without sounding like a complete basket case by talking in cirlces.