I no longer read newspapers and watch news bulletins.
Maybe this makes me slightly ignorant. I understand that it's important to know what's going on in the big wide world. If I hear of something that interests me, through chats with friends or social media, I will investigate further. I will ask questions and Google.
I stopped reading newspapers and watching news bulletins simply because no good came from them. It was always bad. I was starting to despair of human nature and the universe.
Of course I realise if we all had my attitude we could be quite a clueless nation. Please let me confirm, that I'm not completely clueless. And I do care about the world, just for the record.
But that's the problem, sometimes I care too much. I'm a sensitive soul, and soggy newspapers and tears before bedtime are not great ways to conduct your life.
It was all becoming too much.
Only yesterday I remembered why I've tuned out from headlines. My father-in-law came round to supervise Tommy whilst I was working from home.
"Have you heard they've arrested the girl's step brother? Her body parts were found in his home."
Whoa. This is why, sometimes I like being ignorant. I was blissfully unaware that such a terrible ordeal was unravelling before our eyes. Body parts? Her own step brother? I was feeling nauseated.
The conversation progressed and became worse.
"And what about that 15 year old boy who was stabbed riding his bike!"
This was too much. I imagined Tommy as a 15 year old boy, happily and innocently riding his bike.
What has happened to us? Why are we doing this to each other?
This cemented my decision to abandon news. But unfortunately, on some days, I still can't escape the destruction beyond my front door.
Besides, I've rediscovered my love of reading books. I can't get enough of thrillers at this present time. Any spare time I have during my commute, or my bedtime, my head and mind are lost in pages of novels.(Not newspapers.)
Also, it's a great excuse to do a book club with my friend. Well, we've done one book club, we met at the pub by the train station and drank wine, ate chips, discussed our reading material, and swapped.
The Gone Girl, The Good Girl, The Husband, Apple Tree Yard, to name but a few I have recently read. Currently reading The Book of You.
And what corkers they have been, and are turning out to be.
But the funny thing is, I am strangely attracted to creepy and compelling, terrifying and gripping, oozing with suspense and fear, psychological thrillers.
You could say, that it is not strange or unusual for me to read a quite disturbing novel about the strange and unusual.
Which surely, is what I am escaping from in real life?
Sometimes, I really do not make sense.
Maybe this is the consequence of human nature and the universe.