Yes, that's it. And healing shines a light on how destructive that is to the psyche, so it no longer appeals. It was never a conscious effort to stop. It just fell away along with a load of other unhelpful thoughts and behaviours.

Did you find any particular book helped with trauma? (If you don't mind me asking.)

I used to read a lot of crime fiction and thrillers, with the occasional general fiction or sci-fi thrown in. When I did read general fiction, I tended to like more dystopian material.

I find that the darker elements I enjoyed in those genres I now prefer in something where it's a more integral part of a larger story.

These days, I tend to read much more general fiction, sci-fi, a little fantasy, and crime fiction only rarely.

To expand on my previous point, I can still enjoy fiction that explores darker themes in depth, because that's always interested me from a psychological point of view, but I guess I feel like I'm in a sufficiently healthy place that I can appreciate the balance of light and dark as encapsulating the human experience. But what's changed is that I don't get sucked into those darker places as a way to lose myself in self-loathing or self-pity. I don't know if that makes sense.

>Anything that significantly heals trauma can really change what your interests are.

This is exactly what did it for me. I'm glad you're in a better place.

Yes, my tastes changed once I no longer had depression or anxiety. That was across the board. I stopped listening to music that was darker (not sadder), and I stopped reading crime/thrillers so much, preferring more general fiction, sci-fi and fantasy. It didn't affect films quite so much, but I suppose I watch less dark stuff that doesn't have more substance.

I'm sure my tastes will continue to change in line with my life experiences - it's only natural.

Sprawled over my recliner, leg over the arm. Leaning across a table. Lying on my front.

1Q84. If Murakami was guilty of this in other books of his, I hadn't picked up on it, but I couldn't help noticing how much he talks about breasts in all three volumes and once I did notice it, I couldn't unnotice it afterwards.

Also, Crash. I found it well-written but boring, almost as if that were intentional, so I can't fault the writing. It just wasn't an enjoyable experience, even if it successfully conveyed what Ballard intended. I'd recommend reading this once at least.