Shame and Books

I don't know how to rise above the shame.
I felt so chided for not having read the book.
I want to read.
I want to understand and retain what I read.
I want to not have a constant headache from trying to read.
But I am not there yet.


But why do I feel so ashamed for not having read that book?
Yes, we agreed to read and discuss it.
But I told them from the get-go that I don't read very well yet and I would try.
I would try but could promise nothing more.


I felt like a small schoolgirl who willfully skipped her homework.
I felt about 2.75 inches tall.
I am sure she would declare she never meant any such harm by her off-hand chiding.
But once again, she does not believe me.
Nor did anyone else inquire more about the reading or not reading.
I felt very alone.
And my ALERT button had been pushed.


But now, days later, I still feel shame.
I feel ashamed of being here because "if I can do this surely I can read ..."
I feel ashamed for browsing my favorite blogs.
I feel ashamed for paging through that magazine.
But what few people see in all those things is that the pictures are what draw me in.

And when I do read, I don't need to retain and comprehend the whole last chapter to follow through with the current one.
I don't even need to retain the last sentence most times.




And now, because I can't see much more than shapes on a page, I will trust spell check to catch my mistakes...