Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
Because I think I might have it.
j/k. But in reality, I find myself counting steps, blinking my eyes numerous times on purpose and other little things like that. I wasn’t making fun of anyone with it above, moreso, I’m poking fun at myself. A little asshole humor. It’s a dreadful disease.
I always take precisely 5 paper towels to dry my hands after using a public bathroom. I think that’s the complete extent for me, the deleterious state of my apartment should probably clear any chances that I have OCD.
Yeah, I’ve seen compulsive hoarding first hand. I used to install A/C and furnaces with my dad a while back and we went to this one lady’s house and my GOD ! There was literally a tiny trail all through the house and down into the basement.
We couldn’t complete the job because she refused to move shit out of the way so we could get the old and new furnace out of her house !! So we had to call the salesman (we we subcontractors for Sears) and have him ask her to move her shit and she refused again. In the end, this lady was so bad that she literally GOT HER MONEY BACK AND WENT WITH A FURNACE in her home !!!
Heh, maybe she burnt some of her newspapers for heat.
I do. Compulsions include-making sure my door is locked, and making sure each dish I was is clean enough to perform brain surgery with. Due to the latter, dishes will stay in the sink for months because I lack the energy to wash them ‘properly’. This is important. Everybody has routines that make them feel better. It isn’t OCD until those routines start interfering with your life.
okay let me get this straight…You think you have a mental illness that requires you to have your dishes brain surgery clean so they’re all rotting away in your sink? Is this a really round about way of saying that youre just too lazy to wash your dishes but if you were going to clean them you would prefer them to be extra clean? I mean I think we would all want our dishes to be extra clean.
Nah. I’m too lazy to vacuum. The dishes are a genuine OCD thing. I spend more time and use more soap on each dish or utensil than most people do on a whole sinkful. If I try to wash them quickly, I end up putting them all back in the sink because they are not clean enough. Once when my parents visited, mom washed the dishes. If I was just too lazy, that would be problem solved. Instead, when I went to put the dishes away, I found small imperfections and put them all back in the sink because they werent clean enough. Each dish has to be slowly rotated under bright light so I can see whether it’s dirty or not. My silverware rusted away in the sink because, suffering from chronic depression, I didn’t have the energy to clean it properly.
The tub is dirty because I don’t feel like cleaning it. But the dishes are due to OCD. I get by through using plasticware, paperplates and styrofoam cups.
IANAshrink but this really just sounds like a quirk. I mean this webMD generation is out of control. Every socially awkward shy person has Social Anxiety Disorder. Every overstimulated child has ADD every human with natural highs and lows has bipolar disorder. I mean whatever you may have OCD I can’t say. it just sounds absurd to say that you have a disorder that drives you to have perfectly clean dishes and thats why they’re all dirty. I mean shit, I want my toilet to be perfectly sanitized. I really want it to be. I don’t like fecal matter microscopic or otherwise swirling around so close to my toothbrush. I don’t have the time or energy to sterilize it though. Do I have OCD? I NEED FUCKING MEDICATION. GIVE ME MY FUCKING POWER CRYSTALS
Yep, I do. It sucks. I’ve had an obsession about puking-I was terrified to the point I was drinking tons and tons of water (who knows why), thinking it would make me belch and feel better. All it did was make me pee more. I’d get any little stomachache and be convinced I was going to be sick-to the point that my stomach hurt MORE from nerves, feeding into it.
I’d think I was gay, or somehow I was going to hurt someone. Or I’d be convinced that In had this disease or that one.
The worst thing about OCD is that you can’t reason it away. The more you tell yourself you’re being silly, the worst it gets. It just feeds into it and starts an entire cycle. It’s extremely fustrating, and often ends up seriously distrupting one’s life.
What works for me is distracting myself. Reading a good book. Watching a movie. Just getting involved in something else and completely
lobstermobster, we’re talking about people taking a half an hour to clean one dish. Scrubbing your hands until they bleed. I remember a teacher telling us about a student they had who had to be watched at recess-he’d go into the bathroom and scrub every little pencil and/or rulers. People who wear gloves all the time, and are convinced they’re dying of every little disease that they hear about.
You can’t sleep at night. Your life is seriously curtailed by repeated actions. Constantly going back and forth to make sure your car is locked, and having fucking panic attacks over it.
Here is Wiki’s article on it. It’s a good jumping off point.
Look up Howard Hughes. Then come back and tell us that OCD doesn’t exist. :mad:
I don’t have OCD, but one of my coworkers does. Before she starts anything, all of her material has to be at precise angles to each other. Her papers must be piled in a certain way so that they are even-steven with nothing sticking out. She must do what she’s doing in a lock-step method A B C. If something happens that prevents her from following the method she goes nuts and swears. If she perceives us, her coworkers, as not doing something “right” according to her perception, she goes nuts.
She’s been written up too many times to count. The Powers That Be suggested that she see a psychatrist if she wants to keep her job. That sent a days-long rant about how she WON’T be medicated, don’t even ask, fuck you all.
She’s covered by the Americans With Disabilities Act. Outside of the OCD she’s a decent person. But she’s hell to work with.
