[TheGreatElvenWarrior]

Having found this thread again whilst looking for another thread, I have a few things to say about it that I didn't before.

Recently I had the (not so pleasant opportunity) to experience obsessive from another point of view. Before, I would brag about how obsessive I was, but no more. I now know what obsessive looks from another angle, and it scared me. For a while I was quasi-courting a young man (who was actually rather boring). I tried to ask him things about himself, like what things he liked to do with his spare time, what he wanted to do as a career, what his favourite books were, ect. He wasn't forthcoming with information, and it took me a while to realise why. What I did learn was not only did I find that he was as aimless as anyone could be, but he was also obsessive, dangerously obsessive. After discovering this, it didn't take long for me to distance myself from him. I found what the other side of that feels like, and I was actually rather disgusted. I find myself now telling openly geeky people to "get a life" under my breath, because sometimes you just go over your head in your fandom.

Being a nerdy individual, myself, I completely understand having interests that many other people may not have (for instance, Tolkien still fits into this category, Doctor Who, not so much any more). It is normal to have special interests -- like ours in Tolkien -- but when one takes those interests too far, the result is often frightening, even to the most hardened nerds. Personally, when I joined the Downs, I was so very obsessed, because I couldn't talk to anyone about my new love. My thirteen-year-old self would have married LotR if these books were a person. Now that I have a bit of perspective, I have been weaning myself off of my obsessive traits, because I see how damaging it is to be such an individual. I still love Tolkien, I still love Lord of the Rings, I still have a happy feeling every time I visit the Barrow-Downs (even though for a while I got no joy out of it), but I understand now why my family would look at me funny and feel ashamed for knowing me, and I wasn't even to the realm of dangerously obsessive yet. It is quite a thought. . .