I’m not a normal person. I have never claimed to be normal. I have several quirks that define my own personal brand of weird. But one of my weirdest abnormalities is my ability to quickly and utterly become obsessed with things. I have always shown a deep passion for the subjects that catch my interest. This has been going on for almost my whole life.

It started when I was just a toddler. I decided to be a cat. I was not pretending to be a cat; I was a cat. I crawled on my hands and knees everywhere. I attempted to drink out of puddles––much to my Nannaw’s distress. I even ate my supper on the floor under the kitchen table.

Since then, my interests have only jumped from one thing to the next––sometimes without warning. I’ll spend months only thinking about this subject; then switch to a new one without a second look. I went from being a cat to being Batman in a just a few weeks and walking on two legs once again and fighting crime across my own Gotham City.

However, when I started school, my childish visions had to come to a sudden stop. No longer could I run around fighting villains and rescuing damsels in distress. I had to sit in a classroom and behave myself. However, it didn’t permanently stifle my imaginative mind.

Around this time, I discovered the best thing in the world––books. I found that they weren’t just for stories, but they also housed all the information on any subject I wanted. With this discovery, my obsessiveness quickly grew, starting to change even more rapidly.  Whenever I found an interesting topic, I researched it.  I would search through the school library until I found a book on the subject. I filled my mind with trivia about Queen Elizabeth, the Holocaust and many other subjects.

I tried to shield myself from the world, so that no one would know of my obsessions. I thought if I spent my whole life with my nose buried in a book, I wouldn’t have to deal with the real world. My imagination quickly got out of hand and made it very hard for me to hide my obsessiveness from the world.

It became even more difficult when I moved up into the cutthroat world of middle school. The books were my only refuge from my peers’ prying eyes. As I developed my love of World War II, my classmates discovered celebrities. It wasn’t easy to have to deal with a school full of crazy High School Musical fan girls.

I found common ground with one certain musician. After his death, a friend of mine became obsessed with Michael Jackson. He quickly became my favorite singer as well. Her interest faded after a while, but mine just continued to grow. My room turned into a shrine dedicated to his memory with pictures plastered all over the walls. I was deemed crazy by my peers.

By the time I reached eighth grade, I had finally discovered that the movies and T.V. could hold some interesting topics as well. However, my interests still didn’t exactly line up with my classmates’.  I found that I was most attracted to movies and shows that were made long before I was born––like the original T.V. show 21 Jump Street and Back to the Future.

High school came and opened my mind to even more areas to obsess over. A slew of movies, shows, and anime became the center of my attention. They shifted again when I moved up to sophomore status.

Before, my obsessiveness put up a barrier between my friends and me. It kept me from talking to them for fear of being made fun of. They all thought I was insane and were probably right. It’s different now, though. The friends I have now helped introduce me to most of my obsessions. They enjoy the same things that I do. It even helps pull us closer together.

I’ve always heard it’s better to be yourself than to try and conform to the world’s standards. With this as a motto and my quirky ways to guide me, I’ll continue to roam over subjects, obsessing over most. I’ll never fit in, and maybe that’s a good thing. So what if I’m crazy and obsessive? I can always say that I’m just myself.