So, apparently my brain refuses to believe I shut off the coffee maker every morning before I go to work. Twice in the last month I’ve actually had to turn around and go back and check. This morning I was only a couple blocks away so it was only a minor inconvenience. The last time I was at work and it was kind of a pain in the ass. Luckily for me I can take off between appointments if I want to.
I have no idea why I suddenly have this odd feeling of forgetting to turn off the coffee maker. A couple years ago I did leave it on and came home to a burnt crud in the pot but no fire of any kind. Phew. Somedays when I turn off the coffee maker I try and force myself to remember. It’s irritating. No I don’t think I’m developing OCD it’s just too weak for pit thread.
Anybody else have some creeping anxiety that is completely unjustified?
My mother is paranoid about shutting the garage door. She has been known to drive around the block and come back to drive by the house and check to make sure that it was closed. She’s found it not shut once or twice–out of thousands of times shut–just enough to “justify” the paranoia. I hate being asked whether it was shut or not, when we drive off someplace; because, while I think I’d notice if she didn’t shut it, when she does shut it, that action becomes such a normal part of routine I don’t remember it half a mile later.
You are probably right that you are not developing OCD, but this is EXACTLY the kind of stuff I do used to do with my OCD before I got treatment for it.
I have this really bad concerning: making sure my keys are on me, making sure all burners are off, and making sure I clock back in at work.
One thing that I’ve found helps is if I say what I’m doing as I do it: everyday I find myself saying “Keys in purse”, “All burners off” and “Clocking in”.
It’s kind of psychotic and I get weird looks, but it works!
It’s dude. Just ignore the man boobs. If they make one that is as small as mine that would be great. Mine only makes a couple cups. I’ll have to poke around. Thanks.
I loathe ironing. As soon as I’m done the iron gets unplugged and put in a safe place until it cools down. Then it goes back in it’s prison.
I’m sure if I wash my hands of the whole thing I’ll be fine.
Count me as another who does this. I think our brains delegate automatic tasks to a lobe which has no connection whatever to our memory center. Otherwise, your brain would be crowded with memories of mundane, repetitive crap that you do all day. Saying out loud what you’re doing makes it lodge in your memory.
I can’t leave in the morning until I make sure the stove is off and the iron is unplugged. I’m paranoid about fire which is why I have about 100 candles in a three room apartment :eek:
I wouldn’t care if mine got jobs if they would just clean the house a little bit. I mean, they’re there all day - you’d think they could wash a dish or something.
So, gut, what happens if you don’t go back and check? Do you just shrug and move on to other things, or do you keep worrying at it until you feel like you have to go check or your head will explode?
I think saying it out loud when you turn it off will help, too - I find that I do repetitive things without noticing at all, and then wonder later if I did it or not. Or give up the coffee habit and quit bugging yourself.
On my way out the door, lock the door, wiggle the knob to make sure it locked. Yep. Shut screen door. Start walking down the stairs… turn, open screen door, wiggle the knob. Okay. Wiggle one more time. Yep. Walk away. Wonder if I locked the door the whole time I’m out.
Keys in hand? Check. Drop keys in purse. Check. Check ground to make sure I didn’t miss my purse. Check. Keys in purse. Okay. Peek in purse to be sure. Check. I have my keys. Okay.
Mailbox is blue. Was it always blue? Of course it was. Better look at it again. Sneaky mailbox might have turned pink while I wasn’t looking. Was it always that shade of blue? Yes, yes, of course it was. Drop mail in. Mailbox is still blue. Door slams shut and makes an orange sound. Slam it shut again to make sure that’s what I saw. Yep. Mailbox is still blue. Amazing how it continues to be blue for so long! Walk home. Peek over shoulder to make sure mailbox hasn’t turned pink again. Pink is just an entryway colour to red, after all. Nobody wants a red mailbox. Mailbox is blue.
Every single night I make my rounds, checking all windows, making sure they are closed and locked. This takes several rounds. The oven is checked several times before going to bed, and sometimes, again, after I’ve already gone to bed and started drifting off. Is the oven off? YAWN, I’d better go check. Wander naked around the apartment, re-checking each window, the door locks, the oven. Back to bed. Husband rolls over. “Are you okay, honey?” he asks. “Only in the broadest sense,” I reply.
A couple weeks ago I didn’t have a toaster, and I used the oven broiler to toast some bread. Then I went out for the day (9am to 3pm on a Saturday). When I got home I walked by the oven, and I could feel heat emanating from it. :smack: Left the broiler on.
A few days later I used the broiler to toast something for breakfast, and then left for work. When I got to work I suddenly couldn’t remember if I turned off the broiler. I thought I remembered doing it, but couldn’t be sure. I could even picture myself turning it off, but didn’t know if I was really remembering, or remembering another time I did turn it off. So I called my apartment manager and asked her to check. When I got in that evening there wasn’t a note from her saying she had to turn it off, so I assume I did turn it off and just psyched myself out.
The next day I went and bought an actual toaster. Problem solved!
I’m glad I’m not the only one who does the speaking-while-performing-action thing…it’s really helped. Like teela brown said, it lodges it in my memory and when I have that panicky moment of “Omigod did I clock back in after lunch???” I remember swiping my badge and saying “Clocking in.”
Of course, I had to adopt this system because this stuff has consumed my life before. I can’t tell you how many times I went running into the little office where the guys who keep track of our punches are and begged them to pull my records so I could verify that I punched back in.
And then there was the time when Mr. Bunny made an omelet right before we left on an overnight trip to a bed and breakfast about 2 and 1/2 hours from our home, and about 2 hours into the trip I asked him “Did you turn the burner off?” Both of us did not stop freaking out until we returned home the following day, half-expecting to drive up and find the place reduced to ashes.
Oh, and the time when he and I were first dating when I made some noodles in his apartment for lunch, drove back to work, and an hour later had to leave work so I could drive back to his apartment and reassure myself that I’d turned the burner off.
