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Really good
Life
The red thread of obsession
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<blockquote data-quote="cheryl" data-source="post: 1154" data-attributes="member: 1"><p><a href="https://aeon.co/essays/how-modern-life-exacerbates-and-rewards-human-vigilance-and-worry" target="_blank"><strong>The red thread of obsession - Aeon</strong></a></p><p></p><p>t all began with a few drops of blood. Or, more precisely, a description of blood on the page. I was reading Lois Lowry’s childhood classic <em>A Summer to Die</em> (1977)<em>,</em> about a girl who dies of leukaemia. The first sign that something’s wrong with Molly is a bloody nose that can’t be stopped. Whenever I got a bloody nose after that, I felt certain my own death was right around the corner. I’d check my arms and legs compulsively for errant bruises – another potential leukaemia symptom. I meditated on mortality more deeply before my teen years than some people do on their deathbeds. My obsession ran so deep, I had to throw away the offending book. </p><p></p><p>When, more than a decade later, a therapist told me I had obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), I could see with no trouble the red thread of obsession that ran through each stage of my life. At the time I was diagnosed, I fell at the extreme end of the broad human spectrum of obsessive traits, along with others who meet the criteria for OCD.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="cheryl, post: 1154, member: 1"] [URL='https://aeon.co/essays/how-modern-life-exacerbates-and-rewards-human-vigilance-and-worry'][B]The red thread of obsession - Aeon[/B][/URL] t all began with a few drops of blood. Or, more precisely, a description of blood on the page. I was reading Lois Lowry’s childhood classic [I]A Summer to Die[/I] (1977)[I],[/I] about a girl who dies of leukaemia. The first sign that something’s wrong with Molly is a bloody nose that can’t be stopped. Whenever I got a bloody nose after that, I felt certain my own death was right around the corner. I’d check my arms and legs compulsively for errant bruises – another potential leukaemia symptom. I meditated on mortality more deeply before my teen years than some people do on their deathbeds. My obsession ran so deep, I had to throw away the offending book. When, more than a decade later, a therapist told me I had obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), I could see with no trouble the red thread of obsession that ran through each stage of my life. At the time I was diagnosed, I fell at the extreme end of the broad human spectrum of obsessive traits, along with others who meet the criteria for OCD. [/QUOTE]
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Really good
Life
The red thread of obsession
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