an obsession, or an abnormal preoccupation with a thought or object, or
perhaps a person, has always been, at least in my head, a rather comical
thing, conjuring up images of a man who is obsessed with using a pogo
stick to traverse the great wall of China or something of that sort.
However, as I wrote this paper and recalled the obsession that I had, I
realized that whill an obsession may be comical at times, it is oftentimes
hurtful, and if allowed to run amok, it can affect my life in very serious
and hurtful ways. In order to show the dark side of these obsessions, I will
give you my story of an obsession.
I stared, seething, my anger feeling like fire in my veins as I
watched the approaching form of yet another middle aged, overweight,
ruddy faced woman. In that moment, everything became clear, I
understood the reason that I felt this unwarranted anger towards any
woman I saw who reminded of HER. It all began when I was three years
old and was diagnosed with type one, or juvenile onset diabetes. After the
diagnoses, there were several weeks of training and counseling to help my
family understand the day-to-day management and treatment of
diabetes.During those several weeks, I stayed in a children’s hospital, and
it was there that I met her. She was short, probably four foot eleven or five
feet tall, and extremely obese. How she managed to stuff what seemed like
three hundred and fifty pounds on her small frame is still a wonder to me.
Besides her obesity, the first thing I noticed was that she had...