I have OCD. Not in the "Tawnya's a little anal" way, but in the "clinically diagnosed" way. I've always had tendencies, but it fully blossomed after the stress of my divorce as a coping mechanism. It got really crippling during the first year Isaac and I were married and I went to see someone about it. Thankfully, mine is a mild case and I didn't have to go to therapy long or use drugs to manage it. We talked it through, got to the real issue behind it and then she gave me tools on how to manage it on my own (my sister thinks it's funny that I was given workbooks for it...she said only with OCD can you have success with independent study!). Therapy was mostly effective and I was able to live and manage on my own. It flared while we were in San Diego, to an uncomfortable level, but I just tried to ignore it. It calmed once we moved here, but I can feel the start of those patterns and habits that get me into trouble. I need to check the behavior soon so as not to get out of control.
I don't tell a lot of people this. Not because I'm ashamed, but because it's hard to explain. There are so many different types of OCD. I have a germ phobia kind. (You all thought I was going to say I had the kind that makes it so I have to have everything in order, didn't you? Nope...
that's just me being anal!) My fixations change. I had a significant problem with people in my home and shopping carts while we were in San Diego. (If you ever borrow a pen of mine and I tell you to just keep it? Just...keep it.) Here, those aren't really bothering me and I've settled into a more complicated issue. I'm working on it. I got the name of a therapist who specializes in treating OCD and I've yet to call. I know what I need to do to get this back to a more normal level, but I keep ignoring it; 10 years later still secretly hoping it'll just go away on its own. (One of my current issues is a rocking chair my mom found Sammy. It's used, from someone I don't know. It's wooden and free and my mom generously offered to sand / paint it for Sammy and bring it up with them next month. I have to work HARD at not emailing her and telling her never mind; I can't have it in my house...even though I logically know that nothing's wrong with it and even if something WAS, the act of sanding and cleaning it makes it ok. Logically, I know that...)
However, I've had a minor victory this week. Every morning I clean off the remotes and my computer (and the doorknobs, etc...) for germs. Excessive, yes, but it sets my mind at ease. I can sometimes skip a day if I talk myself out of it, but I rarely go longer than that. This week, though, I haven't cleaned them off since last...Friday, I think. Maybe Saturday. I wish I had the language to describe how huge that is for me. But mostly? I just wish it WASN'T such a big deal for me.
