WRITING
The Price of Obsession
A story about tortured poets and stalkers
This essay discusses Netflix’s limited series, Baby Reindeer, and topics that may be triggering.
“Absolutely-fucking-wonderful. A lunatic is coming for me.” ― Dolores Lane, Bloody Fingers & Red Lipstick
When I completed the Netflix series Baby Reindeer, I was left reeling in the darkness of my room. I felt sick to my stomach. I asked myself, What the fuck had I watched? I reached for my little tub of Tiger Balm on the bedside table, unscrewed the lid, and dabbed the camphor ointment under my nostrils. I tried to compose myself while staring into the dark space. “It’s just a show, Natasha. It’s just a show.”
I was lying to myself. It wasn’t just a show.
I tried to convince my mind that the seven episodes of the Netflix limited series were overly dramatic and composed of hyperbolics. The first four episodes were a gradual buildup to how a woman named Martha Scott became obsessed with a seemingly harmless Scottish bartender by day and struggling comedian by night named Donny Dunn. By the fourth episode, I had almost pulled my hair out in frustration.
On a drab day like any other, a morbidly obese woman walks into the pub where Donny works, looking dejected. He asks if she…
