My Reading Disorder

copyright by Ruth Lampert

Hello. I'm Ruth and I'm a periodicaholic. Here is my story. . It all started one night many years ago in Tucson, Arizona when I discovered I had nothing to read. I searched every room in the house, including the bathroom, but all I could find was either stuff I had already read (my habit is the kind that can’t be satisfied by re-reading,) or stuff such as third-grade readers, which, thank God, I had not yet sunk so low as to ingest. And while I might read the odd cereal box of a morning, it just doesn’t do for a bedtime fix.
It was too late to knock on a neighbor’s door, and anyway most of them were addicted to different sorts of substances. The library was closed. We lived too far from a convenience store to drive out for the literary equivalent of a bottle of cheap wine; jeopardizing the kids' safety by leaving them alone for a lengthy period would mean I had indeed hit the skids, if not the bottom. I wasn’t that far gone. Yet.
It was heartbreaking to see four innocent children huddled together as I wildly searched the trash bin, the top shelves of the cupboards, and the bottom drawers of the dressers. Poor babies; their parents separated, their mother an addict. For their sakes, I got a grip and stoically went to bed with my craving unslaked. But not before I went outdoors, shook my fist at the dry desert night and bawled ala Scarlet O’Hara,
"I'll never be without reading material again!"
Like many addicts, I suffer from dual dependency. As I have confessed on other occasions, I can't resist a discount. So when those enticements arrive in the mail --First issue free! Save 75 % off newsstand price! Renew now at lowest possible price! -- my resolve weakens faster than you can say "One page at a time." A quick check mark in the appropriate box delivers a twofold rush of relief: the prospect of unlimited reading material and huge savings.

So I bite, and what hook has a more seductive tang than "the first one is free?” I can always cancel, right? So no big deal, right? I can quit anytime I want. Or better yet, I'll just cut back. I'll limit the number, exercise discipline, contain, control, be civilized about it, be a strictly recreational user. And no more hard stuff, like books. . Hey, I put in a long day, and if I want a little diversion to help me wind down, what's the harm?
The kids are grown now, and yes, some of them have inherited, or learned my compulsions. (1) But they handle it. They are functioning well. And some of the sins of the mother are offset, I hope, by her virtues. I have kept my desert night vow. I am never without something to read., although I am sometimes without a place to set down a coffee cup. (Actually, that is as much the fault of my co-dependant who has a really big classical CD habit. But I know that the only person I can control is myself.)
So that’s my story. And the truth is, I really don’t want to reform. I just want a bigger place to store all this stuff -- and I want it at a real bargain price.
Thank you for listening. And reading.