Relearning how to read after academic burnout

The enemies to lovers story between me and literacy

Before I started university I was almost constantly reading a book. Somewhere along my academic journey, after being inundated with reading requirements and fumbling through academic texts, I developed an aversion to reading altogether.

After years of dumping dense academic texts into my brain, I forgot that you could enjoy reading. It suddenly fell into the same category as a chore, so reading a book, even outside of the classroom, felt like work.

Over the last year, I began reflecting on my lack of reading outside of what was required from my courses. It began partially out of a desire to spend less time on my phone and partially because of the shameful amount of books on my shelf that had never been opened.

I used to love reading when I was younger, so what happened? Is it burnout from the university course load? A lack of free time? A blossoming phone addiction destroying my attention span that I refused to acknowledge? Probably all the above. No matter, I thought, I can read if I want to. I just have to open a book and do it.

As I tried to force myself to read again, I got stuck on the idea that I could only read a certain type of book. I had to read books that would teach me something, make me a better person somehow, or make me sound smart in conversations. The claws of academia were ingrained in my mind, telling me to base my self-worth on intellectual success. Needless to say, the reading journey did not last long.

Frustrated at the stack of “smarty-pants” books with bookmarks stuck in the first chapter and a skyrocketing daily screen time, I returned to the drawing board.

All the topics I had chosen interested me — I wanted to read them, and I wanted to learn from them — but every time I sat down to read, I was instantly bored. At that point, I hadn’t addressed any of the issues that led me to dislike reading in the first place, so how could I expect any change?

It’s good to read for personal development and education, but that was all I was doing all the time for school anyway. It’s no wonder reading felt like walking through mud — my brain was exhausted.

Next, let’s tackle the issue of screen time. What am I seeking by scrolling endlessly? As many can probably relate, the phone offers an escape from the stress of the day with a quick and easy dopamine hit that rapidly spirals into doom scrolling. Wonderful.

Non-fiction books aren’t holding my interest, and I barely have the attention span to eat dinner without a screen in my face. There must be a way out of this slump.

Upon digging a tiny bit deeper, the young version of myself, who would be horrified at my literary drought, speaks up, “pick a fun one,” she says. She was right. If I wanted to read again, maybe I should stop overthinking and just pick up something entertaining.

After a browse through the #BookTok tag on TikTok and a visit to the bookstore, I returned with a popular fantasy series whose plot starts to fall apart at the first hint of scrutiny. I finished it in three days. It was the first time in years that I had finished a book I wasn’t forced to read. I returned to the store to get more.

Before I knew it, I had read over a dozen books and cut my screen time in half. As I continued, I found myself opening some of the abandoned “smarty-pants” books as well, now with the attention span and the mental bandwidth to take in the information.

I felt excited about reading again, and I mourned the fact that it took me such a long time to remember that I enjoyed it.

Say what you will about BookTok, or whatever series is in the digital spotlight, but it helped me kickstart a beloved hobby I thought I had lost. The drain of interpreting academic jargon for class, typing up reading responses and scouring peer-reviewed media to support one line in an argument had convinced me I hated reading.

The truth is, I was burnt out from a heavy course load and overstimulated from social media. Suddenly, I rekindled the joy of getting lost in a story, and the quiet focus of reading felt like a respite for my mind in a world of instant digital gratification.

It made me realize how many activities and hobbies I had been pushing aside in favour of my phone or due to exhaustion after school. I find myself now choosing to do things that make me happy, not for any grades or personal development, but just for me.