About ten or so years ago, I had a revelation about how I read and my depression. Simply put, if I don't want to read, it's a sure sign I'm depressed. Generally, the feelings that are a signal for this problem aren't little things like, "oh, I don't have time for this right now" upon looking at a book. Instead, it's the vague feeling of dread
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You might enjoy Year of the Star, by Maureen Johnson - Jack the Ripper in modern-day YA?
fun if fluffy horror.
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