When I was a little girl I had patterns.
Routines.
Rituals, actually, if I'm going to be weird and honest about it.
OK, I was obsessed.

There were ways certain things had to be done, ways specific things in my environment had to be addressed. There was no going around it, either-to cheat my system would have been a fate worse than...well, a fate worse than something, I never wanted to find out what.

It started out as something small, but grew and grew to mammoth proportions. I don't even know when I started doing it, I only remember that I always did. It became something that was bigger than me, something that was a chain I was tied to.

I had obsessive-compulsive disorder, also known by the acronym-world as OCD.

Oh yes-it's the affliction to have. It's to the 90's what ADD was to the 80's. OCD looked so cute and kooky and gregarious in As Good As It Gets, it was the funny illness that a weird man with the social graces of a frat boy in a boardroom had.

And looking back on it, some parts of it were pretty kooky.

If I touched something with the tip of one finger, I had to touch it with all of them. That was fair, see. I had to be fair to all the fingers. It wasn't right to exclude one of the fingers from the joy of knowing what a formica counter-top felt like. If while rectifying the vast unfairness that was not touching something with the tip I touched something with the side of the finger, it made the whole thing worse. Then I had to touch said object with both the tip and the side of all my fingers.

'Cause that's fair, you know.

It branched out over time. It became a way I walked. If I stepped on the crack of the sidewalk with one foot, the other one had to get the next crack. It was fair. If one knee hit the table, the other one had to. If one shoulder brushed against a wall I had to do a 180 and let the other shoulder brush a wall.

Looking back, I realize I must've looked like a human pinball. I wonder how I ever got anything done. And I always did it, unless I was in a severe rush or something. And the more angst or stress I was feeling, the worse it all was.

And I had to do it, you see. I had to follow through with it, because...well, I never took a moment to check the because. I never knew what would happen if I didn't follow through my routine with all my fingers-if it meant that Rome would crack off and fall into the sea, if it meant my future was limited to goat-herding or asking if people would like paper or plastic. I never knew the consequences for not following up on all the fingers, I only knew that there were consequences and that they were dire indeed.

It grew even more. When I was riding in the car, I had to count the letters in the road signs, silently tallying them in my head. I became a whiz at counting letters, a regular creepy little Rain Man who silently counted up the letters of road signs in a matter of a few seconds, including the punctuation (since that was fair. I couldn't deny the punctuation their grammatical destiny, you know).

As I reached my teens, it grew in scope again. From then on things had to be done in a certain order. My day had a structure like nobody's business, and I hated having it deviated from. I don't know how, but no one around me ever seemed to know of this complete and utter deviation from the norm, no one ever spotted me and thought: Jesus, this kid is cracked.

When I moved out on my own, it took a bigger twist. Then I became obsessed with germs. My hands would get washed anytime I touched damn near anything. All the soaps had to be antibiotic. I carried that hand gel stuff with me even (and still do, in fact, but it only gets used if I simply can't get to a sink anytime soon and have just had to deliver a baby calf from a breech birth in the middle of a muddy farm during the night). I couldn't bear the idea of germs, of little bugs, of something out of my control.

Then when I started thinking about control, I realized I could have control. There were ways that I could force my dictatorship on my tiny Helen kingdom. I could absolutely have control.

I started doing things in fives.
You know.
As one does.

My front door got locked five times. Love, unlock, lock, unlock, lock. My contact case checked five times to ensure I'd floated them in enough saline. The contents of my purse checked five times. To deviate was unthinkable-it all had to be done five times. If I did it five times, I was sure of things, I was in control. No more of this touching things with all my fingers to be fair! No-siree-bob! I had hit the mother lode with how to be the Master of My Universe!

Then one day I realized I had been through every home disaster and natural disaster save one-fire. And suddenly I was afraid of a fire. Terrified. Every electrical appliance in the house, save for the refrigerator, got unplugged before I left the house. Everything. It's a symbol of why I cannot, to this day, program a VCR. I never had to, it was always going to be blinking 12:00 with the number of times it would get switched off and on.

I have to confess I was pretty frustrating chickie to be with me (and, some would argue, still am). I don't know how many times I heard a "Dammit, Helen!" from the kitchen as the boy-of-the-moment realized that his toast wasn't ready, that his toast would never be ready at that rate, that one needed to ensure the toaster had not been subjected to the whims of my crazy fears and unplugged in silent horror and fear that a spark could've jumped down the black rubber line and ignited my home before toast could be toasted.

The final straw was when I realized that the stove/oven might come on. Like, spontaneously, as ovens or ovens afflicted with little green poltergeists are want to do. I had such a fear that suddenly the stove could come to life and blaze the little round orange rings all day until it burned my house down. Or that maybe I had been cooking the night before and somehow failed to see the radioactive glow of a stove left on all night before I left for work the next morning. So the only way to ensure that the oven didn't burn my house down was to check it before I left.

Five times.

And sometimes I would already have gotten into my car and then felt I had to turn back home and check it, in case my five-times-check hadn't been enough.

At that point, I knew my life was being taken over. I knew my rituals were no longer weird quirks, they were things I was desperately clinging to, crazy behaviors I was holding on to. It all became pretty clear to me as I talked to a woman at work one day. She was a clinical psychologist and talked to me about OCD. Something I had done in front of her had her wondering if I had ever been assessed for it (I cringe wondering to this day what she might've witnessed tht prompted her to ask me about it).

She gave me an assessment.

Quelle surprise, I scored off the charts on the crazy-o-meter. And up until that moment, I hadn't realized that my weird patterns and Helenistic routines actually had a name for them, that in fact it had a little diagnosis in the "I'm Crazy DSM-IV".

I went home and thought about it. What would happen if...say...I didn't do these things? What would happen if I didn't check the lock five times? What would happen if I kept everything plugged in when I went to work for the day? Would my life really end if I was robbed? Would the world stop turning if my flat burned down?

The next day I got ready to leave and walked to the stove, readying my hand for the feel of th gritty black rings. I thought about my house burning down. I thought about what would happen if I came home to a smoldering ruin. I thought about my five times rule.

And I thought: What a waste of fucking time.

I left the house and went to work. I thought about my house the entire day, but at the end of the day when I drove up to the apartment complex I saw that my house hadn't burned down. And one by one, I started stripping away the obsessions. My fingers that turned the key in the lock (once only) didn't scream I was being unfair to the other fingers. My toaster never decided to remodel the kitchen by way of burning the counter top up.

Just like that, I was mostly over OCD. Today I wash my hands when they need it or if I have been grubby. I don't count the number of times I lock the door. I only unplug things if I am going away for a long holiday (surely there's a fine line between paranoia and cautiousness, right?). Although the assessment I had two years ago told me that I am high risk for OCD, and in fact my therapist said I did indeed sound like I had it, I only start to feel troubled in times of severe stress.

Well...except for that counting letters in road signs thing. I still do that. Can't help it, really. I like to chalk that one up to being quirky.

After all, there's a fine line between quirky and crazy.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 06:39 AM | Comments (29) | Add Comment
Post contains 1715 words, total size 9 kb.

1 I count steps. You know, when you're on a flight of stairs? I count them. That was one of those things that I found out my sister does, too. =)

Posted by: Margi at November 16, 2004 10:31 AM (MAdsZ)

2 Wow, I cannot believe you were able to break it by force of will alone. My cousin has it and it is horrible. Turns out he also has Ausbergers Syndrome, too, but the OCD manifests itself as the hand washing and cleanliness. It has been so hard on his family. I'm so impressed you just made it stop.

Posted by: RP at November 16, 2004 10:47 AM (X3Lfs)

3 You never cease to amaze me, as you know I had a friend with OCD, and I saw first hand how debilitating it was for her. For you to conquer this is just another example of how strong you really are Helen. Oh, and mine is patterns, "if I just move these two over they will match..." what a relief! HEH

Posted by: Dane at November 16, 2004 10:59 AM (ncyv4)

4 wow, that's amazing the way you were able to give up those habits! cold turkey so to speak! and i think everyone has quirks. counting the letters on signs is a pretty cool trick. :-)

Posted by: kat at November 16, 2004 12:30 PM (FhSIP)

5 Is it possible to have a mild case of OCD? If it is..then that's me. I absolutely have to put my left shoe on before my right. I've always put my left shoe on first..and nothing too bad has happened to me. What if I switched up and then something horrible occurred? It all could have been avoided! And my pantry..goodness. Have you seen Sleeping With The Enemy? That's what my canned goods look like. And if someone messes them up, I get just about as angry, too. What's so hard about keeping the cut green beans in a separate row from the cream of mushroom soup? Maybe therapy is not such a bad idea for me.

Posted by: Lindsay at November 16, 2004 01:42 PM (srIAp)

6 Everything 5 times? No wonder Angus looks tired. ;-) Seriously, that's an wonderful story. It takes a lot of strength to just 'turn off' OCD. You continue to amaze me.

Posted by: Easy at November 16, 2004 01:44 PM (U89mk)

7 I'm a step counter too, Margi. Do you count the landing as a step? For me it counts, except on circular stairways. I'm not sure exactly why the landing for circular stairways doesn't count. Some things are best left unknown. I've got another odd one. I move my tongue while driving in a car. When I pass driveways and telephone poles I 'mark' them by pressing my tongue against my teeth on that side. Except if there's a car between me and the object, then it's not counted. It can get quite frustrating during heavy traffic. I think this actually started as a reminder trick from driver's ed. A habit that helped me keep aware of cars entering the road. No idea how or when the telephone poles got added to the deal.

Posted by: Jim at November 16, 2004 02:01 PM (tyQ8y)

8 Growing up I thought I was so nuts and nobody ever realized my quirks but me. Now that I'm older, I read all the time of stories of OCD from other people. I always had a line behind me that couldn't get tangled, if I turned one way, I had to turn around the other way to untangle it.... Glad I grew out of that one, it was exhausting.

Posted by: Rebecca at November 16, 2004 02:49 PM (ZHfdF)

9 Dude! Step counters unite! I started out counting stairs (and yes, the landing counts), but then it became counting steps out to the parking lot and such. Now, I'll count steps on the treadmill. How pointless is that? But I still do it when I'm getting to the end of my workout and I just want to quit.

Posted by: amy t. at November 16, 2004 03:41 PM (zPssd)

10 My middle son is a step counter... he is 7. One day in kindergarten he said to me, 'Mom, there are 125 steps between my classroom and the cafeteria." I wasn't sure how to respond. I'm sure he has all the steps counted out around the house... i just don't ask.

Posted by: Boudicca at November 16, 2004 03:45 PM (XH1zZ)

11 I count stairs, sometimes. Only if I realize I've forgotten how many there are. Right now, I can't think of the number of steps between the first and second floor here at work. I feel a strong urge to go count them. And words, that's my downfall. As a typist, and dyslexic, there almost isn't a word in the English language I haven't typed backwards, and therefore know what almost every word sounds like backwards. My maiden name was Polish, 11 letters, and I still know what it sounds like backwards. I have only been married about 18 months, but I have a feeling, if you asked me on my deathbed, what did my maiden name sound like backwards, I wouldn't miss a beat in telling you.

Posted by: scorpy at November 16, 2004 04:09 PM (dLJEU)

12 I tend to do things in threes, scratch my nose, tap my foot, blink, stuff like that. Just never really throught about it being odd. It's just something I've always done. Guess the crazy fairy visited me at an early age.

Posted by: Ice Queen at November 16, 2004 04:10 PM (F6gzK)

13 All that time I spent with you and I never noticed the crazy bits. You seem awfully normal to me. And you barely even locked that door

Posted by: emily at November 16, 2004 04:19 PM (QD7++)

14 I used to always freak out if I stepped on a pine cone with one foot. I'd always need to step on it with the other foot, mimicking the place where it met my sole exactly, down to the same degree of pressure. I'm mainly over this one now. And checking that I haven't lost my money during the movies, over and over and over again. I'm mainly over this one, too. Or checking my clock, making sure the alarm was set, and so on. And, inevitably, if I don't check it over and over again now I usually do end up with a problem because I'm so used to checking it over and over and over again to make sure it's all set correctly. Oh, and my now ex Eric had to kiss me on the forehead exactly in the middle or I'd have the pine cone issue: he'd have to kiss again on the other side, even if he was just barely off, to make sure it was all balanced out. This is certainly the newest one.

Posted by: the girl at November 16, 2004 04:36 PM (MYeTv)

15 I count steps and stairs, too. I didn't know that was a weird thing. Step-counters unite indeed, Amy. And the landing totally counts. And words? Yes-I'm an anagram freak as well.

Posted by: Helen at November 16, 2004 05:30 PM (AeGVs)

16 Helen, Just in case my message in a bottle drowned in the pond betwixt us....Thank you. Verily. For all. {hugs} Jennifer

Posted by: Jennifer at November 16, 2004 06:08 PM (zceqK)

17 If I start counting steps and stairs, I'm suing all of you The thought never occurred to me. When you're walking with someone, do you: not count steps, count and not talk, or multitask and do both? I'm genuinely curious and not trying to make fun at all.

Posted by: Solomon at November 16, 2004 06:34 PM (k1sTy)

18 Yup! I'm a step counter too. And that tongue thing Jim does while driving? Yeah, that one too. Quirky sounds good to me!

Posted by: Mick at November 16, 2004 08:56 PM (VhRca)

19 I have OCD to a certain extent, although it seems to lesson with age. My son also is obsessive. Like ADHD, it can also have its benefits. I love the picture. God, you are really cute.

Posted by: Tim at November 16, 2004 10:03 PM (YF2Uq)

20 I had this, and my form was MUCH like yours. I wrote a story about it once: http://www.manyfires.com/homepage/writings/perfecttouch.html I, however, was obsessed with doubles. Because they cancelled out. Ya know.

Posted by: Dani at November 16, 2004 11:34 PM (2cGPj)

21 Wow, Helen; you are one amazing lady! You have overcome so much and come so far to be where you are today.

Posted by: brj at November 17, 2004 02:20 AM (9gIKd)

22 I'm not OCD but I definitely have OCD tendancies. (This girl at my office has it...I'm not sure if she knows it though). I am a step counter. I never heard of anyone overcoming it by sheer willpower. That's amazing. I heard they prescribe valium for that. Personally, I'd go for the drugs.

Posted by: kalisah at November 17, 2004 03:42 AM (rU32B)

23 Well, if it makes you feel all of you feel ANY better, I once had a therapist tell me that every highly intelligent person she had ever met had some OCD tendencies. So, maybe we are all just super intelligent!!! I have broken many OCD habits myself as well bc I decided they were just a waste of time and came to the conclusion that more than likely I would not die from not doing any of them. HOWEVER, I am still a step counter. And yes, landings absolutely count. Usually landings are 2-3 steps. I also usually tend to do it now only when I am stressed out. I think it calms the mind. To answer someone else's question, I usually only do it when I am alone and not when talking to someone else (unless they are boring ) I am also a hand washer, but about a zillion times less than I used to be. I have gotten a handle on about everything but public restrooms. I just can't seem to get over that one. It's like I can just "feel" the germs in there. As for doors and appliances. I am pretty okay with the doors now and just usually make sure the door is locked before bed. I do still unplug the toaster and I NEVER run the dryer when I am away bc I have known people who have had their houses burn down bc of these two things. Sorry if I just added dryer to anyone's list

Posted by: EJ at November 17, 2004 04:22 AM (ZdSi4)

24 Counting steps, stairs and ceiling tiles, seems like something I've always done, too. But, Helen, doing things in fives? I can't do things in odd numbers, I've always preferred eights.

Posted by: Sue at November 17, 2004 06:50 AM (wfCR0)

25 Do you stop once you've counted 5 letters in each road sign?

Posted by: Simon at November 17, 2004 07:15 AM (UKqGy)

26 I think I'm missing out. I don't count steps. I put my left sock on, right sock, right shoe, left shoe. (If I'm wearing shoes and socks). I like my icons in my taskbar in the right order, and will close applications and reopen them to get them where they're supposed to be. I like my happy pills to come in a bottle. I have major angst when I get given the brand in a box. There are about five brands in a box, and one in the bottle. It's horrible!! When my current bottle runs out I have a box. I'm not looking forward to it. It messes up my whole Sunday. Sunday is when I put my drugs for the week into my little 7-day-box-thing, so I know if I've taken them for a particular day or not. That's something else I used to obsess about. If I'd taken my drugs. The 7-day-box-thing cured that one. But the box/bottle one won't go away. I shouldn't have started this. Now I'm thinking about that horrible box in the cupboard, waiting for the bottle to run out! I even pondered pushing all of the little tablets out of those blister pack things and filling up the bottle with them. But then I started to wonder if these are made to go in the blister packs and will go stale or something if I put them in the bottle. Ok. I'm stopping now. Make me stop. Oh... and can you fix your cookie?? It hates me. It never remembers me. Then I have to go looking for Jades MT-fill thing and I don't think it's online anymore. Stop me.!!!

Posted by: melanie at November 17, 2004 08:30 AM (lKbZJ)

27 It's ok Melanie-my site hates me too. My cookies have crumbled and I have ho idea how to remedy them. I just moan and weep for the fact that it can't even remember me

Posted by: Helen at November 17, 2004 05:33 PM (AeGVs)

28 I guess I don't have any OCD tendencies because I don't do any of these things. Except I used to repeat the words being said to me under my breath. Like, if someone said, "How are you doing today?" I would mutter, "Doing today," unconsciously to myself before I would reply to them, "Fine!" All through my childhood I did that. Then somebody told me serial killers grow up doing that, so I stopped. Serial Killer, um...wasn't exactly my desired vocation. Nope. *grins*

Posted by: Amber at November 17, 2004 10:44 PM (zQE5D)

29 I guess i am blissfully ignorant. The only ocd behaviour I can remember is the need to examine the frontal and posterior erogenous zones of females within visual distance of my current location....but I think that is a somewhat common condition.

Posted by: joel mackey at November 21, 2004 08:21 PM (pi76j)

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