How to Become Obsessed with Something

My boyfriend is obsessed.

Obsessed obsessed obsessed. With the things he loves, he’s obsessed. He’s a gamer, so he’s super into Magic The Gathering, Escape from Tarkov and occasionally Escape the Gathering (which is just us finding excuses to avoid meeting up with pals so we can finish bingeing Twilight). He’s a military history nerd with a soft spot for Napoleon. He’s a barista who sure as hell knows his coffee. And he’s a drummer, so no wonder my heart is beating so erratically.

With the things he loves, with his passions and interests and hobbies, he’s obsessed.

And by obsessed* I mean:

• Super passionate,
• With an in-depth knowledge base,
• And provides it with his full attention and focus.
• He’s devoted. Proper and super devoted.
• (He bloody better apply this to me too).

You know, he’s the perfect way to be. He’s all in.

Like Tim Ferriss and Derek Sivers said themselves, “if it’s not a HELL YEAH — it’s a no.” If you’re not going to be head over heels into your Thing™, then why waste your time? Why give it an inch, a moment, a second thought? If you’re not going to dedicate yourself to fulfilling yourself, then turn off the existential tap, buddy. Half-full just won’t do.

You’ve got to storm through the door, not linger in the hallway. You’ve got to scream into the void, not leave it a voicemail. You’ve got to explode into existence like a universe, not seep into it like a period stain on a bed sheet.

We only get one lifetime to fill; so why are we half-arsing stuff?

If you’re going to love something, love it out loud and in full. Do it at maximum capacity. Be obsessed. Assimilate it. Don’t hold back. If you’re into stamp collecting, then buy a quilt cover in the print of a second-class stamp. If you’re into mountaineering, marry somebody who lives in the alps. If you’re into beekeeping, keep all the bees. Every last one of them. Take them all. Leave none free. Tell anybody who questions you to buzz off.

If you’re going to love something, obsess over it.

It’s super healthy you know.

The problem is, now I’m stuck. I want to be obsessed too.

I want to be like Ben: 352% into what I’m into.

100% is just no good anymore. That’s enough to fill the jar, but why just fill it when it can spill out the sides and seep out of your existential cupboards and decorate your soul? I want to know every inch of its content. I want to own merchandise, recite facts, win trivia rounds at local pub quizzes because I’m just so damn clued up. I want to be a monomaniac.

Monomaniac: “a person exhibiting an exaggerated or obsessive enthusiasm for or preoccupation with one thing.” — Google Dictionary

And yeah, sure, I’m obsessed with words. Biscuits. Space. Robert Pattinson’s jawline. Novelty-shaped pens. Old fashioned magazine print-outs detailing Cadbury’s chocolate factory in my local area. But I want to be obsessed with something more defined, something more detailed, something more intricate and distinct and, you know, tangible.

Something I can collect, compound, claim as my own. Something I can share with others maybe. Something I can talk for hours about. So.

Here are some things I’ve been thinking about:

• Journaling
• Linguistics
• Palaeography
• The premise of “today”
• Dolls house making
• Elusive soft drinks
• Eternalism and ontology
• Diary entries of historical figures
• Giving In To The Existential Abyss and Becoming An Abstract Concept™
• Book nook crafting
• Ephemera collecting (otherwise known as Hoarding Everything I’ve Ever Touched. In which case, I’m already a pro).

But wait. Is this the wrong way to go about it? Do you have to actively seek out your obsession? Do you set the parameters and hope that something will fit the mould? Do you put out an ad? Is there a dating app for your soul?

Or — will it just find me?

Hmm. How exactly do you find your obsession?

You look within. And around. And through your search history.

You whip out a biro and a couple dozen sticky notes and you raid your brain. Storm it. Splurge out your soul. Think about the things you loved as a child. Things you love now, as a taller child with taxes to pay. Things that pique your curiosity. Areas of interest you’ve never really rummaged through but have always wondered about. Ask your friends about theirs. Google lists of the UK’s top 100 hobbies. Read books. Raid the library. Try things you’re sure you’ll hate. Make it a challenge. Make it a mission. And go complete it.

Delve deep. Think small. Maybe you like history — but did you know that the whole of humanity’s past is simply a compilation of days? Hone in on an era. Study a month. Obsess over your favourite hour. Perhaps you like cats (and I think we all know they do pretty well online). Assume your role as Crazy Cat Person™ and foster 12. Adopt 14. Enter them into pageants. Read up on medical lameness (and no it’s not just me being such a loser that even doctors keep at bay). Become a furry.

You see?

Trial and error, that’s all it takes. A few days, a couple hours, a long stroll; just enough time to figure yourself out. And you will, I promise you. So get curious. Stay intrigued. Live in detail.

Talk the talk, walk the walk — then stalk it.

You hear?

That’s all we need to do to find our Thing™ and make it our everything. Until then, I’ll keep being obsessed with Ben.

To recap: be obsessed. It’s the best

“If you give 100 percent of your attention, energy, and time to a thing, you will get exactly that back. Make sure you give all that you have to make sure you will get all that you need.” — Iyanla Vanzant

And the rest.

So be obsessed.