We all obsess over different things at times. That's what human beings do. However, some of us have minds that take that obsession to a whole new level. Now, those of you who have OCD, you know exactly what I mean when I say that we can't control our obsessions. For those of you who don't, let me try to explain.
For me, having OCD means counting bites of food, changing the volume on the TV to an odd number (preferably 27), and crumbling up a piece of paper after every minor, inconsequential mistake. Having a battery percentage that isn't a perfect 100 on my phone makes me anxious. Clutter drives me crazy. Organization doesn't have to be practical; it just has to be pretty. Anything that doesn't have an assigned place has to go. That chair may not have my name on it, but it's mine. Microwave time settings are often changed into odd numbers (a minute and 30 seconds becomes a minute and 27 seconds). If things aren't going to be sorted, they must be artfully disarrayed. Being one minute early is still being late. The gas gauge can't ever go below an eighth tank, and if it does, getting gas becomes my number one priority. Arranging books on shelves both soothes me and causes stress; should I arrange them by author or by series or by title? As an extreme book lover and a current English major, my OCD also shows through my control freak grammar tendencies.
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Growing up with OCD forced me to repress some urges. While eating the yellow Skittles followed by the green, then the orange, then the purple, and then the red may not draw a whole lot of extra attention, correcting someone's grammar every time they slip up sure will. At work, I often force myself to keep walking past tables that aren't set just right and ignoring that crumb that didn't get swept up. When I see someone throw away a piece of paper after making a mistake and rewrite it, I completely understand. When someone goes out of their way to straighten that chair and adjust that tablecloth, I swoon.
The good news for us OCD sufferers is that the qualities that make us who we are can actually be super helpful. We pay attention to detail. Most of us have perfectionist tendencies. And we can teach others our precise ways.
It took me a while, but I finally embraced who I am, OCD and all. I now appreciation my attention to detail and my organizational skills. Thanks to my OCD, I'm always on time. I remain organized. And I have never run out of gas. Why does it matter if I save the red Skittles for last or leave the TV's volume on an odd number?
