Harry Potter

I am obsessed with Harry Potter. There, I admitted it. Now, where’s this road to recovery I've heard so much about?

I wasn’t always obsessed. I mean, Harry Potter hasn’t been around forever. There was a time when my life didn’t hinge on getting the next book in the series, or seeing the next movie, although that was a very long time ago.

It all started the summer my brother was reading the first book. It was just on the brink of becoming a national craze. He wanted me to read it with him, which meant that I first had to catch up to where he was in the book. But once I started, I couldn’t put the it down. I was halfway done by the time he got home from camp and unwilling to wait for him to catch back up. My mom had to pry the book out of my hands and force dinner down my throat that night. It wasn't long before I had finished the third book; before my brother had even finished the first one.

I loved how every detail was important to the story. An offhand remark in the first book became crucial to the plot of the third book. It was the first time I'd encountered such a dense story. I nearly went crazy waiting for the fourth book to come out. I re-read the other books until I had memorized them. I saw the movie two or three times in theatres. I took my younger cousins to the second one so that I would have an excuse to see it on opening weekend. Now the fifth book, which was supposed to hit shelves two years ago, is due out in one month.

The sixth book is going to take even longer, if it ever comes out. I don’t want my life to be consumed by this one book. Please, help me get better. I’ve admitted to my obsession. What’s the next step?