"I don't know if it was the pressure of early adult life or the demands of college, but I began to experiment with huge ships in my late teens. I began by looking at huge ship magazines in the basement when my parents weren't around. Then one day, my mom came home early and unexpectedly caught me in the act. Both of my parents were furious. They asked me where I got the magazine from, and I said I found it and that I thought it only contained articles on small watercraft. As a result, I started to sneak out at night, telling my parents that I was headed to a friend's house to watch 'Full House,' but in reality, I was in the library, reading up on huge ships.

As my career developed, I found an apartment that I could afford and I moved out of my parents' house. My interest in huge ships only grew. My apartment became a center for trafficking huge ship items: model huge ships, pictures, of huge ships; life preserves -- you name it. Eventually, some neighbors complained and the owner of the apartment building had me evicted. By that time, I was so far gone that I didn't care and I moved into a hostel. It was the perfect place to continue my pursuit of huge ships. The rent was cheap, drifters came and went, everyone, minded their own business, and once in a while, a new person would come along with scale models of huge ships in Turkey. We had a lot of wild nights and I was having trouble holding down my job. Eventually got fired.

One day, it dawned on me that if I don't get away from huge ships, I'll end up dead. By pure luck, I ran into a fellow who went through the same thing and he recommended Trimmer's book. Between the book and my support group, I made progress and got back on my feet again.

Last night, I almost turned left out of the parking lot instead of turning right, as I've done routinely for the last six months. Turning left would have meant that I was heading to the Port of Baltimore where huge ships are present everywhere: horns blowing, sailors lashing gear to decks, and merchants teasingly gesturing to the gangplanks as they ask passersby if they want to go for a voyage on a great, big, huge ship. I started to imagine the wakes in the bay and the frolicking of tugs as they pull and push these huge ships in and out of the port. There was a burning desire inside of me: my mouth started to salivate, my hands were trembling, and my eyes darted left and right as they searched for an answer. I thought that maybe I could just go to the port and find one or two huge ships and it wouldn't be that big of a deal. Call it a voice in my head, an angel on my shoulder, or Trimmer's book in my glove box, but I turned right and headed home instead.

My support group had a meeting last night and I told them about my near stumble. It felt good to tell everyone that I did not fall victim to weakness. I have my beloved support group and my dearest John W. Trimmer to thank for six months - huge ship free." - The Bumble