Dear Roger, Is Being Addicted to Reading Treatable Through an Intervention?

I cannot seem to tear myself away from reading or writing for some reason! I am staying up insane hours to read,not great classic works for the most part, but pretty much anything! I have been reading magazines from the subscription to,"Details Magazine" that I got for my oldest son in the hopes of getting him to realize that there are fashion styles beyond skinny jeans and rock t-shirts and beanies, my subscription to,'Psychology Today" as well as ,'Guns and Ammo", and I have 4 books going right now, including,'Cemetary Dance" and ,"The Chronicals of Jack Primus" and a couple of others that I pick up and put down depending on my mood, and then there is my nasty,'Fan Fiction" addiction that I seem to be unable to break.I am readingor writing more than 6 hours a day and I get up at 0500 to start and often go back to bed sometime around 0200.Its insane, and often I find myself nodding off with either a book or my computer in my lap.
I am getting somethings done,I started looking into Writing Fellowships and trying to sort out just what I can do to support me and the kids over the summer,but mostly what I want to do is spend time in the library doing research for my novel,or curled up somewhere quiet so I can read. I have found that I really enjoy listening to music while I write, so i often have my Ipod going or a pop out music player from a couple of bands I like on my desktop so that I can listen to something to keep my brain from focusing on too much of the past.I finished the first chapter, but I could not write about his death.I guess I am just not to that point yet.I got to the curve in the road, and it all came flashing back and I found that I was just unable to do it.I got blistering,"Suicide" migraines for 3 days in a row, and just a feeling of melancholy and sadness, that I decided to see if I could pick up afterwards, and luckily I found a starting point for a chapter that will be in the middle of the book, and even the end has been floating around. Writing has been coming easier lately for other things and I have even been kicking around some song lyrics, and that would be the first time in close to 20 years that I have even remotely considered writing songs. My lyrics tend to be dark and kinda sad, but I think they would also speak to more than a few people, kinda like my poetry did back in the day. I am going to have to see if my mom will give me back my high school journals with the poetry in them, though after the,'Great art and photography funeral pyre" that I conducted 20 years ago where I burned almost all of my work, I am sure it will take some convincing on my behalf to get her to give the surviving stuff. I dont burn much of my work anymore, though I have been tempted, and the book containing my ,"Cowboy Poetry" made it as far as the top of the woodstove before I reconsidered due to her ire over me burning my younger poems, though why she gets so upset with me I dont understand, afterall, I have never let her read any of it.I dont let many people read or see what I have written in the way of fiction or poetry, and it even weirds me out when people I know actually read my online stuff, its kinda like being naked in front of them. I mean, I dont mind if strangers read it, because after all, Ive done my fair share of flashing a little skin when it was around people I wasnt going to ever see again, but when its people who know me, I tend to kinda skeeve out a little inside. Showing my writing or my art is like standing in front of everyone naked with my guts hanging out, you know people judge you and ive got a lot of scars and lumps.Ive never been an exhibitionist or even remotely interested in being famous,(hell, I spent enough time being infamous),and frankly I give a lot of props to those with the guts to get up in front of people and show themselves. I have given a few speeches in front of large crowds,(over 300 people)several times, and the anticipation was the absolute worst.I have told people who use me for public speaking events to not even really warn me, just call me and say,"you need to be here tomorrow and dress nice and be ready to talk to some folks" and I would be fine, but the last time I had to give a speech at a fundraiser for one of my favorite charities, they made the mistake of telling me a month in advance and they expected a copy of my speech 2 weeks before I spoke.By the time the day rolled around, I was a nervous wreck and I had discarded the original speech and I ended up just using some basic notes and speaking from the heart, which I have found always makes people more interested. I got a lot of laughs,(on purpose) and a standing ovation, so I guess it wasnt too bad, but again the sensation of being naked with everything hanging there was almost overpowering. The few times I performed my,'Cowboy Poetry' , it was a little more relaxing because I didnt know anyone,but im still really damn particular who I let read or see it.
I have kinda tinkered with the other stories I was working on, and I do not know if they are going to flesh out enough to be full-length novels, but I am thinking a compilation of my "Southern Gothic' stories might be something worth pitching.Living where I did as a kid sure gave me some stories to tell, and so many of the recollections take me back to times that sure as hell seemed a lot more simple and happy.
I always miss home and the South in the spring.I miss the green of everything and the smell of hay meadows as everyone tried to get in some quick hay cuttings before the rain gets too crazy, I miss the sound of cicadas and whip o wills, and bar b cue, and Southern men, the kinda men I grew up with that had that wonderful lazy way of speaking, and dressing. God, I dont know what it is but I am soo sick of seeing a good looking man and then seeing him wearing flip flops or sandles with socks!I miss men that wear boots and skin tight wrangler jeans that sit soo low...AW HEll! im digressing, but its been soo long that when I hear a Southern accent or a Texan accent in the store I just want to see if they are from home or if there is something we have in common so I can hear the sounds of home a little longer.I also perk up when I hear an English accent as well, because growing up across from Mick and all his craziness, I just associate that Bristol limey accent with home as well. It feels like I have lost soo much by being away, and sometimes when I talk to friends on Facebook, I see that they never left the area and they all seem to be pretty happy. I am the only one in my family that is this far from home, and sometimes I wish I hadnt wandered so far away, and perhaps this constant pull that I seem to feel is my punishment for leaving.