I am a next-level fan. I guess the proper term is “fangirl,” though I have seen this misappropriated, so I’m not entirely sure if the definition remains.

You know I really like something if I become a tad bit obsessed with it.

It’s been an issue, per se, for as long as I can remember. I got into "Harry Potter" at a young age. Somewhere around the release of the second movie, I believe. I was never really “obsessed” until after the series had come to its end.

I have gotten into Internet fights over whether or not Professor Snape really had good intentions all along. Personally, I believe he was selfish and self-absorbed. I have played both versions of Pottermore. I am in the Hufflepuff House. I still test my knowledge on BuzzFeed trivia quizzes. When I have the time, I will spend my days watching the Freeform movie marathon.

I become emotionally attached to characters. For instance, I cried hysterically when Hedwig died.

As I grew, I got into bigger (but not always better) things. I will admit there were times that schoolwork took a backseat. This was more so in middle and high school. If I was tuning out, because of sheer boredom, in biology, you could rest assured that I was probably plotting out my next Marvel fan fiction chapter.

I will also admit that, yes, I developed crushes on the actors. That is totally normal, right? I remember my first major crush being on Tom Hiddleston as he portrayed Loki. I wanted to sympathize with the Trickster.

I went a step beyond the average fan after watching "Thor." I searched high and low for original stories of the Norse Gods instead of the Marvel portrayal. I waited eagerly for and thoroughly enjoyed Rick Riordan’s “Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard: The Sword of Summer.” Now I have to figure out which address to have the sequel sent to when it is released in October of this year.

I finally branched out for friends. As mentioned in a previous article, I am a bit of a loner in the real world. As far as I could find, no one at my school seemed to enjoy what I enjoyed as much as I did. So, in desperation, I turned to the Internet for help.

I vaguely knew my way around Internet chatrooms. For a brief period, while living in Mexico, I was introduced to an international chat room for students living abroad. I have met some wonderful people through the glorious Internet. One of these beautiful souls introduced me to the blogging platform Tumblr.

Tumblr is, for the most part, overrun by people such as myself — people who are “obsessed” with TV shows, movies, books and other things. The website is a toxic environment, disguised as a great place to meet like-minded individuals. I only recently made this discovery and used a period without my laptop as a good time to quit Tumblr cold turkey.

In the beginning, it was the haven I had always been looking for. I could obsess about the latest episode of a show or a plot point in a movie, or theorize what would happen in the next book of a series. I made friends and lost friends as I hopped from fandom to fandom. I was open to exploring new things, while carefully tiptoeing around anime and mature adult novelties. I changed my username, picture and blog theme far too often.

Tumblr was like my secret second life that I was not very good at keeping secretive. I would spend an unhealthy amount of time on that website because I was not happy with reality at its current status. My parents did have to intervene a few times. It took until college for me to realize how much Tumblr had absorbed me. It was somewhere around the third faked attack of 4chan on Tumblr that I decided to take a step back from the drama. This opened my eyes to the cesspool of ill intent that slowly but surely assured my end on Tumblr.

I would like to talk about my longest obsession to date. I exclude "Harry Potter" because I dwell only on what was the "Harry Potter" universe while trying to ignore the new things like the play and the movie. About four years ago, I was introduced to the CW drama "Supernatural."

I met a girl on a Marvel roleplaying chatroom who begged the admin until they let her bring in the paranormal hunting brothers who head the show. We got to talking, and before I knew it, I was asking my parents for my grandmother’s Netflix information.

I had seen "Supernatural" on Tumblr before. They were one of the Big Three. But instead of it being Germany, Japan and Italy, it was "Doctor Who," "Supernatural" and "Sherlock." I promised my newfound friend that I would watch the first episode. She said I would be hooked. She was right.

My responsibilities were tossed out the window. I focused on binge watching "Supernatural." I was enthralled. I let it consume me. I had a deadline. I wanted to finish all eight seasons by the time the ninth season started. It got harder and harder to explain the plot to anyone who gave me the time of day. I had to drag myself through seasons six through eight. They really let the writing go after season five, which was supposed to be the finale season.

As September turned to October, and Tumblr geared for another "Supernatural" season, I allowed myself to skim through season eight. Season nine was little better. A brief plot involving fallen angels turned into something about the Mark of Cain. By this point, I was an abused drug addict, in the sense that I knew what I was doing was bad, but I refused to jump off the sinking ship to save myself.

When it comes to season finales, "Supernatural" pulls out all the stops. I learned months ago to prepare for a certain amount of first-world suffering. My younger sister was finally sucked into the world, but because of my knack to narrate everything she liked to watch separately. The season finale that year was heart stopping. I remember screaming before going downstairs, in shock, to seek solace on Tumblr. My sister finally understood my screams, about ten minutes later.

Of course, the writers of the show were notorious (by now) for completely upsetting strong plot points and digging deeper plot holes. They dropped the ball when it came to the issue that was the last 10 seconds of season nine. Season 10 was only a year ago and was basically another disappointment. Something about demons. I had accepted that "Supernatural" was past its prime.

Then, after years of fan badgering, we were delivered a gift beyond words. For the show’s 200th episode, a musical was performed. The plot was kind of drab, apparently the running theme that season. The music, in my personal opinion, made up for the whole thing. And then they brought back someone we had all written off as dead. His return all but confirmed a fan theory (which was later canonically confirmed).

The finale, nary a year ago, was an emotional one. They killed off a character I personally do not believe can actually die. They then unleashed this season’s drama and left the season in another emotional cliffhanger.

This season though? Season 11 has been amazing. The writers really stepped up their game and gave us a mostly amazing season. They brought back an actor and his character whom I thought we would never see again. They confirmed a long-running fan theory. They are probably about to kill off a character I love dearly.

I also wanted to explain my chosen picture. This was a selfie taken on the previous Halloween. I had taken to dressing up as my favorite character. I went as Loki the Halloween after "Avengers." Last Halloween, I went as a trickster archangel named Gabriel. I had a splendid time confusing the religious folk on my last ever trick or treat. One soul made the "Supernatural" connection.

It is "Supernatural" Season Finale Day as I write this. Those on Facebook, I want to apologize for the fallout that probably happened.

Is it easy being a fangirl? No. Do I enjoy it? There are times. Then I get my grades in and I automatically know how that happened. Is it something I would suggest to others? No. Please, if you find yourself diving head first into something, your priorities and responsibilities matter a lot more than another season of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer."

So please, fangirl responsibly.