Depeche Mode Obsession Disorder
Yeah, you got this right! There are thousands of Depeche Mode Devotees wandering around with this, many of them unaware how serious it is. And it can be contagious! Check out these symptoms to see if you have this condition:
Inability to concentrate on anything other than Depeche Mode and their music, oftentimes leading to job loss, misplacing children, kitchen accidents and bad driving.
Obsessive belief that you are married to one or all of the band members; especially bad if you are already married and are calling out band members names in your sleep. In the most serious cases, you have gotten rid of your mate to make room for the band that you believe is living with you. No one should dig in your back yard.
Suddenly bursting into a frenzy of singing Depeche Mode songs in public, sometimes with violent arm waving. Even more dangerous if you think the band is there singing with you.
Excessive sweating in the presence of any of the band members. This can progress to excessive drooling as well, especially if Dave is present.
Those most seriously affected may suddenly start babbling incoherently or lose the ability to talk at all.
Constantly having to replace your computer when the hard drive fails from being overloaded with thousands of photos and videos of the band, accompanied by permanent damage to your fingers from right-clicking to download the same photos and videos that crashed your computers in the first place!
You barricade yourself in your home with your stash of Depeche Mode photos, videos and music for long periods of time. Many of your friends will believe you died, and some may send the police. No, not the band The Police, the REAL police.
Obsession with the color black. Everything must be black. This can progress to painting your entire body black or dying your pets. If your car windshield is now black, seek help immediately. Preferably not in your own car. Black contact lens should be discarded.
The only number you ever use is 101. Causes a big problem when banking and you no longer get your mail. Unless your house number is 101. And the IRS is not amused.
You wave your arms in a frenzy anytime you hear Depeche Mode music. You wave them uncontrollably anytime you see anyone that looks even remotely like Dave. And you wave them at the police officer while being arrested for waving while driving with your Depeche Mode music at concert volume. You get in more trouble when you sing Barrel of a Gun to the officer to justify your waving. Serious cases of waving will require shoulder surgery.
You have homeland security on speed dial as you are convinced the terrorists are plotting to steal Andy, Martin and Dave from your home. Yes, you think the band lives with you.
You build an addition to your home to store all the Depeche Mode stuff you have bought. You have multiple copies of everything, fearing the supply will run out. Plus you need all the extra walls for the tons of giant posters of the band you had printed from all those photos you downloaded earlier. Just Can't Get Enough! Yeah, that's the song you sing when bringing home more stuff!
You know the words to every song they ever recorded, even the ones on "Ultra", progressing to the delusion that you actually WROTE all the songs yourself and gave them to the band as a love gift.
You buy tickets to every concert even if you can't go just to have the tickets for your Depeche Mode scrapbook. Yes you have scrapbooks. Hundreds of them.
You have multiple arrests for reaching out and touching men that look like members of the band while asking them to be your Personal Jesus. Unfortunately you reached out and touched more than their faith, muttering something about wanting to touch their "Little One"
You tell your psychiatrists (yes you have several of these) that your favorite feelings are those of death, pain, suffering and other things from dark places. With a smile on your face. He thinks you should be committed, but you tell him all Devotees are committed. He does not get it.
You create websites, Pinterest, Tumblr, facebook and other pages for the band, spending hours every day, convinced the world needs this. Urgently! The band told you this, right?
You believe that You Tube was invented as a showcase for Depeche Mode and are outraged that other people are posting videos there. Obviously youtube has been hijacked by Bon Jovi, but you don't know who they are as you only listen to Depeche Mode.
Long term sufferers will progressively lose their ability to walk normally from so many years of dancing "Dave style" around their house. Long supermarket aisles will start to resemble a catwalk, further provoking this behaviour in public; those indulging in the accompanying hip thrusts and ass shaking risk being arrested by store security, Even worse is if they suddenly remove their shirt and dance bare chested. Especially bad if they are female.
You can't visit a dog shelter without breaking into singing "Precious" at full volume. Unfortunately the dogs don't know how to pose and Anton Corbijn is not there to help. Those most afflicted will sing "Precious" when sighting any dogs anywhere, even one. Scares the heck out of the dog's owner,( but the dogs love the sound of the music.)
You think guitars were not invented until the year Martin Gore got his first one; I mean they do sort of look like a synthesizer with strings? Martin invented this, right?
Your friends no longer invite you out for an evening on the town since the night you sang "Soothe My Soul" to the shirtless guy with tattoos standing at the bar because you thought he looked like Dave from behind. He was not Dave, did not get soothed, was definitely not amused and it got ugly.
You have been permanently banned from the local costume store after trying to steal all the feather wings to send them to Martin Gore.
Your front door banner reads "Welcome to My World", but you never answer your door. You can't hear the bell over the concert volume Depeche Mode music that is on autoplay 24/7. Plus you have lost the ability to talk about anything other than Depeche Mode.
Your friends bribe the people sitting around you at Depeche Mode concerts to take photos. No, not photos of the BAND. Photos of YOU making a fool of yourself screaming, waving, climbing on stage, and tossing your panties at Dave, particularly bad since they were the ones you were wearing when you entered the concert. And more photos are taken by the police when you are thown out by security for cussing at the rich people in the front row for not singing the correct lyrics. No, not the band The Police, the REAL police.
SO, WHAT'S THE CURE?
First,if you have a friend that has this disorder, proceed with caution. Under no circumstances should you try to remove them from their safe little Depeche Mode world. Approach them with kindness, playing DM music if you have it (Oh, surely you do? ) Singing a few lyrics may soothe them. They will be just fine, secure in their belief that the band takes care of them. Always. Forever.
If you yourself have this condition, congratulations! You are one of the lucky chosen ones! Everyone that criticizes you is envious. You have DM. They don't. You should share. It is very contagious.
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THERE IS NO CURE. NO CURE IS NEEDED. BE CALM. YOU ARE PERFECTLY NORMAL AND HEALTHY. THE REST OF THE WORLD IS SICK AND CONFUSED!
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A swift kick here, a bounding leap there—away I fly, into the air like a howling wind. So you can understand how hard it was for me not to dance for a year due to my leg injury, now I'm back on my feet and ready for when a vibrant melody streams into my eardrums, my reaction to dance. Energetic twists and turns, hops and jumps, leaps and stamps come naturally to me. I always find ways to express myself, and expressing myself through dancing is one of the most beautiful forms. At times, when the music is so loud that it hushes the world and its noises surrounding me, I give my soul to the music and worship it through my dancing. I close my eyes, breathe the air, and let my body fly free as my feet overpower me. And when that happens, the music welcomes my dance, and scoops me up into the air, to dance on the clouds, where I will be forever in my bliss. 
