Dearest people who casually use the term “OCD”:
Being tidy and “needing” things to be a certain way isn’t
or a Disorder.
It took me almost 3 minutes to knock on doors because I had to knock in patterns of 3’s.
If someone opened the door,
I still had to knock until I finished the sequence.
And if I was stopped, I’d have to begin again.
No matter how long that took.
Same pattern with every single light I turned on.
I washed my hands 100-200 times a day, sometimes until they were cracked and bleeding.
I obsessively counted ceiling tiles, floor tiles, bricks
Again and again.
I couldn’t stand to see segments of garlic that hadn’t been broken apart. I’d smash them to bits or I couldn’t hear a single thing anyone was saying.
All I could hear was loud swishing noises and all I could think about was smashing the segments apart.
I couldn’t be touched by most people without needing to wash my hands.
I had to disinfect every doorknob, light switch daily.
I spent 4-6 hours a day cleaning every surface in my home.
I never stepped on a crack if I could help it, even if that meant skipping, walking and jumping oddly.
Everything was in patterns only I knew.
It took a lot of thought and energy.
It was debilitating af.
Worse though when was I didn’t finish the knocking sequence.
When I fell onto a crack.
When I wasn’t able to smash the garlic bulbs hanging on the wall.
When I was imperfect.
Imperfection wasn’t tolerable.
I would often smash a glass coke bottle against my head or face until I was black and blue.
Or I would cut the bottoms of my feet with a razor.
The more blood, the better.
I don’t believe that there is sick a thing as being
Or having “a touch of OCD”.
So unless you can identify with any of the above,
count yourself lucky;
you don’t have OCD.