Self-help books are number 5 on the memory list.
From an early age my father became obsessed with these books. After having been preached at for years about the “power of positive thinking”, I truly hate them.
I consider myself to be a positive person so don’t appreciate getting a daily lecture on how to be even more optimistic about life. In all honesty, there wasn’t a lot to be optimistic about. However, my father clearly got a rise from challenging the way I dealt with life. He used the subject matter of these books to criticise every decision I made. Apparently, I was “addicted to failure”. I always wanted success in every aspect but the constant assessments of character will wear the most positive of people down. I never wanted to be a failure and never thought I was until my father began to tell me every day how much of a disappointment I was.
Perhaps the fourth book along “How to stop worrying and start living” was something I should have read. Why my father needed help here I’ll never know. He rarely worried, he never cared about others, only himself. He’d been living a great life for years. Even through the torment and torture, my father was loving life. He had everything and everyone else loved him.
Except me. Day by day, the hate began to grow.
“How to win friends and Influence people” was possibly my father’s most important book. He definitely lived by this mantra but not in any kind of endearing way. His one goal in life was to liked and respected. He won. Everyone thought he was an amazing man. That was all they saw. Not me though. That side, that character was hidden from me. I saw the real him.
I didn’t just get lectures from these self-help books. As you can see on the shelf, The Bible played a huge part in the preaching. But I’ll come to that later………………..