This is the prime time of the year for literary loving football/rugby widows, like myself (any mothers out there will be relieved to hear that my days like these are numbered - my partner is a devout irish catholic intent on creating his own 5 a side team).
I'm flying through my to-read list and have been enjoying it until something hit me. I was exhausted. Emotionally exhausted. I've been described by my friends as an emotional sponge, because I'm sensitive enough to really feel empathy - even if they are fictional characters! The bonus is that I can also feel their triumphs, but these have been few and far between in the kind of novels I've been dabbling with recently. Affairs, heartbreak, illnesses, deceit - you name it, I've felt the side effects of all of these in the past week!
It's true, the protagonists often end up stronger and wiser by the end. Not all novels end on a high though and we certainly can't expect sunshine throughout the plot.
My health warning would be to read little and often. Binges of any description are rarely good for you, so why should reading be any exception when it comes to your emotional health?