Obsession (not by Calvin Klein)

There is, I think, a subtle but crucial difference between having an obsession and obsessing over things. I can’t quite explain it though, so it’s probably best for me to demonstrate. I hope you’re sitting comfortably.

I have always spent far too much time obsessing over things. Currently, the only area of life I really obsess over (possibly to my detriment) is work. I’m not obsessed by it, but I obsess over it, even though I know I shouldn’t. That’s why it was 7.45pm - and cold and dark outside - when I left a deserted office earlier this evening.

Time was, however, when I used to be obsessed by ideas. Stuff. First, there was music. Then there were books. There was theatre, and then - though I don’t care to usually confess to it on these pages for fear of attracting ridicule - there was even blogging. There were also those occasional darker episodes, usually lasting a few weeks or months, when I would be overwhelmed by an obsession with a particular person. And I bet you never thought you’d hear me admit to that, did you?

These days, however, possibly as a result of being older, wiser, cynical, jaded, occasionally level-headed and certainly rather more boring, obsessions are rare. I can’t remember the last time I had one.

So whilst I do want to find a way to stop needlessly obsessing over things, I also want to have an obsession again. I want to be obsessed. An obsession does something to the balance of my brain: it makes me feel alive. True, an obsession with a person does something to the balance of my emotions too, which is why I might try and avoid becoming embroiled in that particular experience once more.

Now my only problem is that I’m not quite sure what I want my new obsession to be. Or even if an obsession really is a good idea now that I’m (apparently) so much more level-headed.