That Strange Object of Obsession

I've been too busy and therefore tired to even come down to write in the blog. This is rather unusual because I'm normally not tired from the everyday doings, you see that is simply not me. First I thought i was getting ill... well, I'm still thinking that I'm ill with some strange cancer, I still have to decide what kind of cancer. I've been so tired, that, for example, yesterday was trying to make up some words when chatting with one of my work colleagues, and I struggle to talk, perhaps I wasn't interested, but still, I felt tired. Too tired to even talk! That is definitely not me. Fortunately, as soon as I left work I felt better. Thus, probably is the bad air in the office, 'dense-heavy air', and oxygen is delayed in its route towards the brain to make it function well enough.

Or is it that? Can it be simply the 'heavy air' at the office room? And can the brain can only depend on that little thing? I know the obvious answer, but I'm writing this blog to challenge the obvious for many. Even the obvious for me.

Lately, I've been feeling physically bad, nothing seems to motivate me. Yes, it's dark here, early darkness and much clouds covering the sky. These result in almost a null exposition to sunlight. Sure, think again about the wintry syndrome. But, I don't think it's that simple. I still want to hang up with my disease.

Obsessing with ideas of all sorts are intriguing to me. Since when studying psychology, with friends always discussed about the many causes of neurosis and psychosis. The mind and soul have been profoundly explored since the era when mankind decided that there was a god and others to be judged under certain rules should they disobey. That has intrigued me since before I learn to read or write, way before that. As a little girl, I was browsing heavy books that had information about 'madness'. Well, i didn't read back then of course, but i saw the artistic impressions of 'madness' and the response to it. Thanks to painting, sculpture and music, the small/young people that cannot read or write can gain a glimpse of the human in its many shapes. Fortunately to me.

Thus, obsession, as one expression of 'madness', has hunted me. This has happened not only because of mere curiosity, but because I do obsess, constantly, over and over things. Some obsessions have remained through the decades, some others are new. Yet, they are all a reflection of myself and something about me. I was talking to someone recently about that, and the person told me that while i understand that I'm projecting and reflecting on others' actions, I shall not disregard their actions as unacceptable. For example, the atrocious events taking place in Mexico. Up to now, since the beginning of 2008, five thousand people have been killed due to the ongoing drug-cartel related wars. This involves, absolutely and without question, the state and all its law enforcing branches; civilians with and without relations with the cartels; paramilitaries, and other factions from the army. This is a thing I think every day, and cannot go without checking out what is going on about it. Cannot pass a day without having a quick update. It's like a drug. You see. Need to know! It's not simple curiosity. Think and think about it, and do not find a way out. Not being there is, above all, not reason enough to be indifferent, as that's not in my nature. I could be there, like many and intend to be indifferent. However, as things have escalated, being indifferent is absolutely impossible nowadays. Yet, the achievement of consciousness and agency are not the social prizes to this day.

So, OK. I've said it. And as I was writing, that annoyingly long paragraph, had to be stopped. I had to come into terms with it, and to leave it for now. Too much can be delusional anyway. Let me know what you think, is this an obsession, or my own humane and social concern with the things that go on in the place that matters to me? Or is it, as I think, a non-stoppable thinking due to my inability to do something about it. My beloved ones, have always told me that it is unnecessary to think that much about it, because there is nothing i can do. Perhaps that is why this results in an obsession: I cannot do a thing about. It's like the candy I cannot have, well, I don't eat candy. It's like the perfect weather that I cannot enjoy. It is so much uncontrollable that I have to check the weather almost for any plan I make, just so I know how it may be when I go out there... to the world.