It's ten o'clock on a cool summer night. I'm sitting on a park bench overlooking Jones Beach in my hometown of Seaford. Scrolling through my Instagram feed, I vicariously see my friends enjoying summer vacation to the fullest. For a brief moment, a pang of jealousy hits me. I think to myself why am I on a park bench all alone at the moment while everyone else seems to be having a blast. Not a second later, my phone dies and I remember the real reason that I am on this park bench in the first place. Reaching into my tote bag, I pull out a copy of Mystic River and begin to immerse myself in the riveting story.
For as long as I can remember, reading has been a central part of my life. For the last 17 years of my life, I have always been reading something. When I was a toddler, my dad would read books like The Lorax by Dr. Seuss and with me. Enamored with the world I was presented, I began to voraciously devour any and every book I could find. Christmas Lists would be equally composed of books as of toys. Any long car ride would be ameliorated through by drowning out the world around me and diving head first into the words on the page. I enjoyed the oppurtunity escape into the world of the words. However, that is not what I appreciate most about my love for reading.
Personally, I feel like a much more empathetic individual because I read so much. Reading has exposed to a myriad of people and situations, in both fiction and non-fiction, that have illuminated my understanding of the world. Reading someone's story and truth provides the ability to walk in her shoes. The words communicate a reality so vivid that I feel as if I am a part of the story myself. This could not be more evident than in my favorite book, Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen.
The book chronicles her life in a mental hospital after attempting suicide at the age of 18. She befriends the other girls also staying at the hosptial and comes to terms with her own borderline personality disorder. Kaysen explores themes such as such the counterculture of the 1960s, society's understanding of mental health as a whole, and the search for a sense of identity. Not only after reading this book did I feel a greater sense of empathy for those struggling with mental health issues, I felt a greater a sense sense of empathy for people as a whole. That is a gift I never would have received had I not fell in love with reading. And for that, I am all the more grateful.
