One Community pt. 2

Three years ago, a Yahoo user posted this angst-ridden question on the Yahoo Answers page:

“IM SLOWLY LOSING MY OBSESSiON for....? corbin bleu!!! ahhhhhhhh noooooooooooo i dont want it to go away!!! is this a good thing or a bad thing? i mean, i still love him to freakin death and i would sdo ANYTHING for him or to see him, but...not as much as i used to....help!!!”

Another user posted an answer:

“Maybe I'm wrong but I think you're slowly accepting reality (that is very good). But if you REALLY want him and you're ready to make everything for him, then I tell you not to forget him and make more research on him in order to re-switch on your emotions... Keep in mind one thing though, EVERYONE has/ had his love for a celebrity; and that around the globe there are millions of people who are much better than famous ones. The only thing is that they are not well known and that they don't get the opportunity to get known...!”

In a conversation, when discussing what it was like to accept reality after a brief obsession dissipates, my friend suggested to me that I may be feeling as though I have lost an old friend. That is an apt analogy.
Obsession and fantasy have been so intricate a part of my life that I feel unused to how I can live normally. Everything I have held of value has been to some degree, fantasy-based.
As with the young girl with the Corbin Bleu-crush, I am finding the inevitable reality check to be quite a bummer. Everyone has the mental tools to move on. But mine are a bit rusty.

As I wrote the other day:

I had always viewed my French Woods career through my obsessive patterns. I wanted it to open and close with a perfect symmetry. The need for symmetry is an obsessive desire, but to me, it has always been a normal part of my life.

This past September I wrote:
There was a time when should I be trapped in a personal state of malaise I could find an outlet in going to the places, working the jobs, and being close to the people who fulfill my emotional needs. In the surge of pleasure that accompanies the act of satisfying my needs, I’d feel myself overtaken by an incredible sense of love, or emotional attachment—attachment to whomever it is that shows me the affection that I seek, whether it be romantic or platonic. Sadly, now, that sense of fulfillment no longer seems to apply. Because I know now that the feeling is fake. It is not love at all, but a state of perpetual immaturity. No different than infatuation.

I have been doing a great deal of research on obsession and obsessive fantasies, as of late.

A Yahoo user writes:

What might help is to write down your thoughts - diary, journals, or just bunch of notes. Or better yet, write a story or a script, so that you can purge all those thoughts. I can somewhat relate to your situation, and writing helped me find a bit more peace. Just try to differentiate on what you are doing, to what other things you can do outside that realm. The outside world, can give you newer materials, and will help you with writings - it is said, write what we know. You are still in control, and what you want to do is to stay in control or better yet have a better control of your life.

I guess I should be glad I already thought of that, and have long since embarked on it.

To me, it is not just individual agents that comprise this line of thinking, but whole places, and organizations, like French Woods. One might say, I had the same kind of crush on French Woods for far too many years that the girl had on Corbin Bleu.



To be continued…