Hi, my name is Diana and I’m a Harryholic. I’m told the first step is admitting I have a problem, so here it is: I love Harry Potter. No, actually, I’m pretty much obsessed with Harry Potter.
In lieu of a formal Harryholics Anonymous meeting, I thought I would share my experience in case there are other Harryholics out there too nervous to come forward. Just remember, you’re not alone.
I remember when I took my first hit of “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.” My grandma, always one to be educational, gave my little 10-year-old self the book and said I should read it. At first I was a little skeptical — I mean a little boy locked in a cupboard under the stairs who learns he’s a wizard? Come on.
But then, I finished Book 1, and then Book 2, and then Book 3 and that was it. I was hooked like a heroin addict. My dependence for wizards and witches was at a high and Harry Potter was my fix.
The long wait between each book release caused me to spiral into a black hole. I spent hours online reading HP fan-sites for something, anything, to get rid of the shakes. I played trivia games and reread the books I had just read to feel close to my beloved Potter and gang.
When the actual release dates arrived, I would pace by my front door waiting anxiously for my dealer, UPS. Once I heard that knock on the door, I raced, heart pounding, for my package. And then I would lock myself in my room until all pages were read and my addiction was satisfied.
I’ve read each of the seven books more times than I can count. Sometimes I get an urge and I just need a fix. But I’m getting better; it’s been a while since my last read.
Like many of you out there, I’ve grown up with Harry Potter in my life. The series was a way to feel connected to people all over the world through endless debates about theories and plots. And might I just add that I was correct when I finished the sixth book and endlessly argued that Snape was actually good and Harry was going to be the final Horcrux. The characters came to be like family members, and when some of them died, I cried — hard.
With the premiere of the first part of the final movie last night, and the second part next summer, us Harryholics can come together once again to celebrate our favorite series. It’s been hard to admit this addiction, but I’ve come to terms with it. So thank you, J.K. Rowling, because I may have spent my teen years addicted to fictional characters who use magic, but at least I wasn’t a crackhead.