No, this is not about orgasm. Tricked you!
I obsess. That’s what I do.
I am the kind of girl who gets darn right fixated on things that I want. It’s not just a mediocre, so-so want, but the I-need-to-have-it-be-mine kind of want.
I get obsessed with a lot of things. And when I start obsessing, I will put all my will power and effort, and will even do back flips and cartwheels, if I have to, just to get it.
This obsession applies to both material and non-material.
There was a time in my life when I got so obsessed into diving that I lived in an island in the Philippines just so I can dive everyday. That lasted six months.
I have a two-year standing obsession with chocolate mint candies ever since I tried one heavenly scoop of chocmint ice cream from Baskin Robbins. I make sure I have a supply of chocolate mint bars in my cupboard to last me at least three months (in case the shops run out of stock which will be equivalent to when all hell breaks loose!)
My current obsession is dancing salsa which is not a bad thing at all considering how I am enjoying the company of good friends while doing something I have passion for.
And then, just as you suspected, I get obsessed with people too. All the men in my life? I obsessed about them, in the way that I want their attention all to myself. I obsessed about them in a way that I want myself to be their only source of happiness. Hallelujah, that’s a perfect example of the omniscient god syndrome right there.
The ugly thing about obsession is that it is awfully ugly. I guess that’s why no one will admit they are obsessed. The stigma attached to it is just downright degrading.
“Oh, she’s the crazy girl who wrote to her ex boyfriend for three weeks without fail, how desperate? Ooh, here comes the irreverent daughter who left her family just so she can indulge herself to diving leisure.” I can already here some people whispering behind my back.
Worse, someone might open my cupboard and all 24 boxes of choco-mint candies will fall right out leaving whoever-decides-to-go-in-my-kitchen for dead.
Obsession makes us go crazy, or look crazy and a little bit mental. It turns us (at least me) into this horrendous chocolate eating monster turned creepy facebook stalker.
But if there is anything that I learned about obsession, it is that some of my obsessions don’t last too long. Sometimes, the soonest I get fixated to something or someone is also the same rate the fixation fades away. There are also instances when I get so obsessed about something, drive myself to the core to get my fix, and then realize it’s not what I want after all. What a waste.
Now, the thing with obsession is that it is very tricky. Often, we commit the mistake of interchanging obsession with passion. How often do we hear people say “I love” compared to “I obsess?” There is definitely a line that draws the two apart, but oftentimes, that line easily turns to grey and we find ourselves torn between loving and obsessing. Which side will you rather be at?
Obsession, like passion, can make you marvel in a lot of things, the way I feel I’m soaring when I dance salsa. Or it can send you to a downward spiral just like how I felt with every failed relationships.
I think this will make me sound even more insane than what we have already established, but there is something about obsession that is just so delicious. It’s that feeling that you have a goal or a purpose. It adds meaning and direction, if not rainbow colors, to a once dull life.
Maybe, it’s true, no matter how strongly we deny it, that we love a good challenge. We always want what we can’t have. It gives us that feeling of adrenalin rush exploding within us. Maybe it’s about proving to ourselves, if not to everyone, that we are much better than good enough. That we are capable of getting anything that we want at anytime that we want it, at any rate, no matter the cost, no matter the means. Maybe getting our daily fixes of whatever we are obsessed with gives us that gratifying feeling of getting something we think we deserve.