Obsession. It takes over my days, and consumes my thoughts. I have been told before that this is an issue that I struggle with. It wasn’t until recently, however, that I have seen the extent of it. They noticed it before the Autism. They saw it in light of all else, and determined it wasn’t good. I saw the thoughts individually, and either worked them through, or prayed for them to be taken away. I never saw the entirety of it, though, and how often I am caught in my own obsessive thoughts. Not until I was allowed to stay home, and encouraged to journal my days.
If I am not obsessing about one thing, I am looking for another. Without an obsession, I feel unsettled, incomplete, without purpose.
That very obsession, however, that I seek so often is also a strong cause of anxiety for me. Once I find a thought to consume me, there presents a problem that I must solve. The longer it takes to work through that problem, the more anxiety I feel.
It is a never ending cycle, it seems. I can’t exist without it – but what type of existence is it living like this? There is no peace, only more challenges to be solved. Oh to be content and free from this constant striving – for more… for less… for different… for other. Who am I without these thoughts?
At this time my obsession revolves around selling my house, buying or building another, and altering my lifestyle. This is one that comes around every few weeks to months. I want to be able to live on less – especially in light of the fact that I cannot work.
I wake up in the morning, and start my research. I go to the real estate website. I research the costs of building my own home. I check out the price of wood stoves, and compact appliances. I draw floor plans, and write. I write, and write, and write some more. I could have written hundreds of novels from the number of pages I have written during my obsessions.
I write about possibilities, and ideas, and all the questions that come from these – then I seek answers. If not from the internet, and from books, the answers come from within myself. It is hard to talk to others. It is hard to get realistic answers. It is hard to share… but when my ideas and thoughts don’t take me anywhere (as they often do not) I get frustrated. I tell myself I will not obsess like that again, and I really do try not to… but then my thoughts about not obsessing about my ideas becomes an obsession in itself; an obsession that I need to solve.
The only way I have found to stop obsessing on trying not to write, or allow thoughts to consume me again, is to allow those thoughts in. So I write, and I worry, and I try to solve the problems again. And I am not patient – I need to find that solution. And I am not content – though what I have wanted for years is less, not more… less cost, less work, less stress… less. And I write, and I research, and I draw, and it all takes up so much of my time.
I obsess, and it is such a part of me that I did not see it; but others did. Can it be taken away, and do I want it to be? It is such a part of who I am. Who would I be if I didn’t have these obsessive thoughts?