So, I posted about my OCD.
Then a kid whose blog purports he’s ‘17 & trying to help the world’ tells me that my knives are crooked and I should take the picture down and re post it.
Firstly, if my picture sets off your OCD I apologise. I don’t post on my blog with the expectation of anyone actually reading it. This is my way of taking the things making my head too loud and quieting them down (hence the whole ‘Saying it out loud. Quietly’ thing. I am constantly surprised that anyone takes the time to read, let alone comment, on the jumble that comes out of my noggin.
Now, I’m 31 (far too soon to be 32) and have had my OCD since I was a teenager. I say ‘my OCD’ as that what it is, mine. I don’t claim it is better, worse, or the same as anyone else’s. I have never been officially diagnosed but I know what it is; an anxiety disorder that causes uneasiness, apprehension, fear, or worry. Causing repetitive behaviors, obsessions and the uncontrollable urge to do certain things.
I have control of my OCD now, but for a while it had control of me. I used to feel the need to have everything in order; and felt uneasy if it wasn’t, or I couldn’t change it so it was. To this day, whenever I clean, tidy or organise I go above and beyond what others call ‘neat’ and occasionally (usually when stressed) I go into uber tidy mode. I also counted syllables; any sentance, song lyrics or conversation I heard had to be counted for their syllables. I counted them out on my fingers; left to right, thumbs to little fingers. I had to have it end not only an even finger, but it had to end on my little fingers. If I didn’t, I would start again, on a different finger, until I did.
Where a person is now is not always indicative of where they have been.