Thoughts on re reading Tolstoy and the Purple Chair

I first read Tolstoy and the Purple Chair when it first came out. I really enjoyed the book then but like many people I did not think I had the time or the patience to undertake such an endeavor.
Fast forward about four years. This is more personal than I have ever been on this blog. I was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder in 2007. It had been under pretty good control until recently. No, that’s a lie. I have been running from and I have refused to stop and look at it in the face. Since 2007, I have buried myself in projects and tried to force myself to be the same person I was before 2007. Needless to say, it has failed.
When I re-read Tolstoy and the Purple Chair I found myself nodding along with the author when she talks about cramming her days full so she does not have time to think, to FEEL. Afraid that if she stops even for a minute that she will drown in her grief.
In reading a book a day for a year, she has found her way through her grief and has come up on the other side. Through books, she has found a way to live. I caught myself wondering if the same thing would help me find my way through the depression and other stuff that comes along with this insidious illness. If through books I could figure out how to be a new me, one who accepts and can life with the hand that genetics dealt.
I know there are lots of books written by and for people with Schizoaffective disorder. I have even read a few. I have a feeling that there is a wealth of information out there if only I was willing to be the student and let other people words and experience be the guide to lead me through this dark waters. Lord knows that I haven’t had any luck on doing it on my own. The few books that I have read, people have found a life worth living with bipolar. I know it is not a death sentence but at times it sure feels like one. I have talked with my therapist over and over and I take my pills religiously but I still find things lacking.

I am hesitant to commit to a full year of reading a book a day. In my mind, there is a life to be lived. Yet, Since 2007 I haven’t really lived life either so what is one more year? If I am honest with myself it feels overwhelming. A FULL YEAR? Still I am desperate to find my way out of this dark morass into the land of the living. Just so, my brain does not rebel I am going to commit to reading and posting every day for a month in May. My brain will accept a month and not give me a million reasons why I can’t do this.

They say that bibliotherapy works. I hope it does.  I hope that my reading gives me a way forward into a life of abundance.