12 Steps to Unbecoming a Winchester
Author's note: I admit, I couldn't help myself. After reading "A Supernaturally Obsessed Fanatic" by Poaetpainter, I was struck by an incredibly demanding plot bunny, which forced me to quit wasting time working and get this idea down on paper. If you haven't read her hilarious fic, I highly recommend you check it out. I hope you enjoy.
"Hello, my name is Pook and I have WOCD."
"Welcome Pook" the group choruses.
Little does anyone know, except maybe the dozen or so people in this room, with the same shocked and confused look on their face, how hard it has been for me to say those 9 little words? To actually admit to my deepest, darkest fear. I am completely and utterly obsessed with Supernatural and all things related to it. The show, its actors, the stories, the official website, the numerous unofficial websites, the blogs, the live journals, the fanfics, the comic book, hell even action figures if Kripke would get off his big pile of money long enough to approve the preliminary sketches.
"We appreciate you taking the first step and joining us today, Pook" the leader says. "After we hear everyone's updates, I asked that you come to the front and tell us about what brought you hear today." I nod politely and quickly take a seat. "Who would like to go first?" she says.
"I will" says an average-sized girl with shoulder length curly blonde hair, green eyes, fair skin, and a smattering of freckles sprinkled across her face. "I am Angel and I have WOCD." "Hello Angel" the group chimes. As she begins talking, I realize she can't be more than 16 or 17. How can someone so young be struck with such a debilitating disorder? I guess it just goes to show that it can strike anyone, at any age, at anytime. It kind of makes you wonder why they don't preface the experience with some sort of warning.
"I have made some positive progress since our last meeting" she begins with a slight smile. "I have only spent 2 hours on line this week checking websites and reading fanfic. Compared to the 6 hours the previous week and the 20 plus hours a week I wasted when I first started coming here 3 months ago. I also, have not written a single story, and am happy to report that I no longer waste countless hours fighting the urge put down all the plot bunnies circling my brain. I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for their love and support, I wouldn't be able to do this without all of you in my corner" she finishes as the group claps and she takes her seat.
"I'll go next" says a middle-aged woman with reddish brown hair, large round glasses with a chain around her neck, and a slight limp. She reminds me of my elementary school librarian. "I'm Linda and I suffer from WOCD." "Hello Linda" the group greets her. "I have suffered a slight set back from the last meeting I attended" she begins tentatively. "You see, since the season finale, I kind of went through some terrible withdrawals and the only want to save myself was to throw myself back into web design. I even called in sick to work one day because I was up too late the night before working on my new layout. I just wasn't happy with the aspect ratio of Jared's head and Jensen's chin. I know that is a stupid thing to obsess about and I feel totally ashamed. That is why I wasn't at last week's meeting" she ends with her head slightly down.
"Linda, there is no need to feel ashamed. You are among friends and we are all here to help and support you in this terrible struggle. None of us will be completely cured until long after the show, comic, and websites disappear. In other words, perhaps, by the time the world comes to an end" the leader woman finishes with a slight chuckle and a reassuring hand on the woman's shoulder. 'Just remember we are all here for you and you can log onto our website 24/7 and chat with a sponsor, when you feel the urge to slip, creeping back up on you." Linda gives her a brief smile and retakes her seat on the first row.
"Anyone else?" the leader inquires. Several people shake there heads no, and I feel panic begin to crawl from the pit of my stomach. If no one else steps forward, that means I will need to reveal my deep, dark secret to this room full of strangers. I don't know if I am up to that. It took most of the guts I had to simply get in the car, drive here, walk in the building, and stand up and say my name. I don't know how much more strength I have left in me. Then I feel about 14 pairs of eyes land on me at once and my panic hits an all new high. My breath catches in my throat and suddenly my vision starts to blur and everything begins to slow down. "Ooooooo………kkkkkkkkkk, Ppppp…….ooooooooo……..kkkkk, yooouuuu…..uur uuu…pppp" the leader woman says in my direction. I freeze in my seat and my knuckles attach themselves to the bottom of my chair. I stare at her like a deer caught in the headlights before quickly darting my eyes around looking for the nearest exit. I feel a hand on my arm and hear someone kindly remark "Dearie, I think she means you." Suddenly everything comes sharply into focus and I can hear my pulse beating double-time in my suddenly amplified ears. I rise to my feet hesitantly and trudge towards the podium.
"Hi. My name is Pook and I have WOCD. Bad." I start off. There are a few chuckles and numerous reassuring smiles across the sea of faces, urging me to continue. After taking a few deep breaths, I start on my tale. "I am here today at the begging of my husband. You see, he was the one to turn me on to Supernatural. In the beginning, watching the show was an activity we both shared and enjoyed. Then he started getting bored with the psychic kids bit and the yellow-eyed demon, and started surfing the net, while I continued to tune in religiously to watch the show every week. After a while, I found myself stumbling onto the official website and clicking some links to other "unofficial" websites. From there, I landed on the premier fanfic website and was a goner. I started reading any and everything associated with Sam, Dean, Jared, Jensen; OFCs, all the ideas, thoughts, stories, drabbles, vignettes, crack!fics, slash, and god help me, even some Wincest. I couldn't get enough of the lives, stories, and sexiness that are the 2 main characters."
"Then a couple of months ago I began to re-watch the episodes and look for clues to the season 2 finale. All these ideas, thoughts, and such began to take over my brain, and I found I need to write them down, to make room for my everyday life to continue. Soon, that wasn't enough, and I begin networking with other fanfic writers, to share our common passion. I became a beta and needed a beta. To tell you the truth, before this experience, I always thought beta was one of those Greek letters that had to do with fraternities and sororities. I have learned about all kinds of new things. Drabble, slash, Wincest, Metillicar, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole. I begin using quotes from the show in my everyday life, in conversations with people who had never even heard of Supernatural. I began to pull away from these "lunatics" as I no longer had anything to talk with them about. They didn't know about Dean's love of the Impala, or Sam's fear of clowns; they had no idea how Mary or Jess died or that people could really be possessed. If they weren't interested in such a fascinating show, then I wasn't interested in them."
"My husband started to act strangely, shortly after I started writing my stories and telling him about them and all the wonderful comments and feedback I was receiving. He was happy to see me so excited about something for a change, but concern began to cloud his judgment. He started off asking me to stop reading fanfic so much, and help him clean the house. How dare he interrupt me in the middle of Sam and Dean fighting a rawhead with something as trivial as washing the dishes? I told him I would help, once I was through with the story. But I didn't tell him the story was 23 chapters long." Several women shake their heads in agreement and laughter fills the room.
"I used to always go to bed before him, but now I am finding he is in bed hours before I am, and I am having a harder time waking up in the mornings. Rather than showering, the first thought that crosses my mind when my feet hit the floor, is I wonder if I got any comments or reviews on any of my stories. Or if one of my new online friends has e-mailed me her story to beta. Or how I could turn one of my twisted dreams into a new story to post. Needless to say, I was completely, and utterly obsessed. That is why when my husband found out about WOCD, he made me come today. He obviously thinks I need help, I honestly don't know what to think yet. Supernatural makes me happy, so how can that be bad, right? Maybe you people could shed some light on things for me?" I close with that question, a brief smile, and walk back to my seat.
"Thank you, Pook, for sharing your story with us. I know it must be difficult. We have all had to go through that and are behind you 100 percent. You are certainly in the right place. Your husband had the right idea to get you around other people who have been fighting an addiction as strong as WOCD or Winchester Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. This chapter has only been in operation for 6 months and we already have over 50 active members. What you need is intensive, group therapy, like the kind we offer right after these meetings, I, as well as everyone here, invite you to hang back after the closing and get to know your fellow WOCD sufferers. We are all here to help each other through this debilitating disorder. With love, support, and guidance, we can all become full, productive members of society again. We will no longer allow Supernatural to rule our lives." The lead woman closes with this sentiment and everyone rises to their feet to applaud her speech and efforts.
Author's note: Wouldn't the word be a much better place if there really was a WOCD chapter in your local area and you could freely discuss your love and ideas for Supernatural and all things Jared, Jensen, Sam, and Dean? I think there are too many closet WOCD sufferers out there and it is time we unite and come out into the light of day. Who's with me?