Day 12: Something you are OCD about- Mom, dad, I know you'll see the timestamp on this, but this is a scheduled post- yes I can do this, and yes, I will show you how if I need to. I wrote it in the afternoon on the 12th.
My parents will laugh. My sister will too. They all call me a germaphobe (actually, that would be a mysophobe...but I digress).
I'm OCD about a lot of things, but not everything. I do have a way of order about a lot of things, and even in what might seem like a chaos (my room for instance), there is a way about which everything goes. I've been told I have it once, or twice, maybe a few times, but not right now. Of course, people with whom I work or study like to point it out too, and they really catch on quick, even without me saying anything.
So, I have to pick something that I'm really OCD about. Really? Let's see...how about some examples?
When I was at school, and I had to cross the road using the turning signals, I had to use an object to press the button, not once, not twice, but three times. Yes, three. I set my alarm three times every night, whether it was already set or not (although sometimes this proves to be unuseful, when my unconscious mind turns it off...or this is the only explanation I can come up with when I wake up and it's not set, since I have one that goes back to the settings after power outages).
If I can't finish a book within a few days, I have to start over. Completely. I can't put a book down and come back to it a few days later. Absolutely cannot. I also cannot start a song in the middle (so if a radio song comes on, I would prefer to go to a station that is just starting a song, and I get all jumpy if it's in the middle of a song, but I do feel a little relief if it's toward the end of a song). I try to keep my reaction to a minimum. I'm pretty good at it.
I don't sit between two people. If we're in a vehicle, I sit in the front sit or on the drivers' side, or I'm awkwardly uncomfortable. So much so as to shift and often complain and yes, get OCD about it. Again, I try not to say anything. I try to be polite.
During a shower, or when getting in my car, or brushing my teeth, or when getting dressed/ready to go somewhere, I always have to do things in the right order. Otherwise, I fret and worry the whole time that the day will be completely ruined because I did something out of order. Pitiful really, because in my rational mind, the mind that took psychology many times over, I know that won't happen, but the truth can't block out the way I feel. I also eat things in a certain order, and my foods can't touch. If they do, I eat around the places they touch.
The food thing...that's been since I was a kid. I hear tales from the parental units about how when I was younger, I would scream bloody murder if my foods touched each other, or about how they ordered a pizza, and it was square, and I refused to eat it, because it was not pizza, because it was not round.
Obsessions? I obsess about everything. My grades right now. My blog. My klout. My twitter. My clothes (believe it or not). My job (or lack thereof, for the past few years). My handwriting. I've gone back and rewritten entire assignments because I wrote one letter the wrong way. I keep things. I literally took a tape measure to my wall when we moved in to hang the plaques I got in middle school, and I would have taken a level, if we had one, but instead, I just measured the bottom of each one, and made each end equidistant from the top of the bay window. Literally.
I could go on for days. I think I'll stop. I have a lot to go on. I think I could write a book on it. For now, I think this is sufficient!