I live, breathe, eat & sleep this pursuit. Really. I'm now at the point where I'm deciding on jobs around my metal detecting adventures. Not good

Even when I'm working, I cannot stop thinking about my next hunt. So, I guess one can easily say I am addicted.
As with all other addicts though, the "fix" doesn't just come from the hunt itself. Rather, it also comes from the preparation of the hunt. The rituals if you will (gathering supplies, researching the spot, rounding up all my hunting buddies, etc.).
Sometimes I wish I never picked up a metal detector. Yes. I am THAT far gone with this stuff. I've always been an adventurer who likes to take risks. And I LOVE the thrill of discovery. However, when you add these two elements to my addictive personality, well, you get the point.
And no, I do not have visions of grandeur on my mind either. I fully realize that finding a cache of gold coins or a hoard of ancient jewels is akin to winning the lottery. However, just cannot shake the thrill of the hunt. Digging up something that someone hasn't seen or touched in 100 years is a VERY sacrificial act for me.
The only other things in my life that even came CLOSE to the experience of metal detecting were performing and gambling. I gave up performing years ago, and gambling...well, it was either keep doing it or wind up a destitute hobo. So, by comparison, metal detecting has given me a new purpose.
I know it might sound strange, but, this hobby makes me feel alive. The outdoors, the friends, the competitiveness, the finds. Does that answer your question?
P.S. - Almost forgot to add. "Regular folks" think we're nuts. I know several of MY friends and family certainly do. However, most of these negative nay-sayers have about zero adventure in their daily lives. Sure, they might giggle when we show them a pocketful of bottlecaps after an all day hunt and wonder about our sanity. However, the last laugh is on THEM. We truly are trailblazers. Detectives of the past. While we are out in the fresh air touching the dirt that our ancestors walked over hundreds of years ago, they're probably plopped on the couch viewing a history channel documentary, slurping down a beer and watching their bellies grow
