So, I have OCD. Full diagnosis sort of thing in my 20s. I medicate for it to keep from going completely off the deep end but even with medication I have a minor issues for instance:
Sometimes forcing myself to throw things away can be traumatic as fuck. Today, I made myself throw some things away that I'd been keeping for no real reason (receipts, old magazines, catalogs--I wish I was kidding) and I thought I was okay with it. I mean there was no panic before hand and my husband came upstairs. He asked me a question about something and I just had a complete and utter meltdown. I burst into tears and cried for twenty minutes solid.
I have this deep sense of shame attached to my OCD and often it drives me crazy that throwing away a fucking receipt can lead to such a loss of control. It's embarrassing -- this attachment I have to old mail and receipts. It makes no sense but then I guess if it made sense I wouldn't keep it for months at a time in a basket until I force myself to go through it and throw it away.
My husband is a real trooper though and that's the truth of it. He just made me some tea and put me on the couch and let me cry until I was done.
I can't remember his question and I'm a thousand percent sure I did't answer it.
- I like to sit in certain places in the places I go often (especially the library or the cafe)
- I park my car in certain areas of parking lots and have been known to wait for a spot to open up.
- I write with a certain kind of pen and changing that pen can be stressful (like when a company changes a design or stops making my pen altogether)
- I do certain things in certain places -- write there, read in the chair, do work at my main computer, don't do work on my laptop.
- I have a few minor hoarding issues -- that I work very hard to keep under control so I don't end up on an episode of Hoarders. I allow myself to keep notebooks, pens, bags, purses but nothing else.
Sometimes forcing myself to throw things away can be traumatic as fuck. Today, I made myself throw some things away that I'd been keeping for no real reason (receipts, old magazines, catalogs--I wish I was kidding) and I thought I was okay with it. I mean there was no panic before hand and my husband came upstairs. He asked me a question about something and I just had a complete and utter meltdown. I burst into tears and cried for twenty minutes solid.
I have this deep sense of shame attached to my OCD and often it drives me crazy that throwing away a fucking receipt can lead to such a loss of control. It's embarrassing -- this attachment I have to old mail and receipts. It makes no sense but then I guess if it made sense I wouldn't keep it for months at a time in a basket until I force myself to go through it and throw it away.
My husband is a real trooper though and that's the truth of it. He just made me some tea and put me on the couch and let me cry until I was done.
I can't remember his question and I'm a thousand percent sure I did't answer it.