I bite my fingernails to the point where they bleed and peel, and the cuticle and skin surrounding them.
I wash my hands obsessively, almost to the point of bleeding if something has gotten on them.
I have an allergic reaction to cottonwood, a common tree around here, so during the summer my hands will start to peel. I’ll obsessively peel the skin off until it hurts underneath.
Everything must be even. EVEN. The part in my hair must be even. If I’m arranging things on the shelf it must be even. I don’t mean even numbers, just evenly distributed; if there’s five things, I will put one directly in the center and two on either side. They MUST BE EVEN. If there isn’t a way to make things directly even, I freak out. And I don’t look most people in the face because we’re almost all asymmetrical. I hate looking in a mirror for that reason.
When I smoke cigarettes, I can’t smoke down to the filter. I absolutely must leave at least a quarter of an inch above the filter or for some reason I start flipping out. Even if I don’t inhale it and just let it burn down to the filter I freak. And when I go for a cigarette break I have to have an odd number of cigarettes: one, three, five, et cetera. If I smoke two cigarettes, I have to have another to make it odd.
Punctuation. I’m not just anal about it; it really does start to make me go into a fit when I see a misspelling or a misplaced comma, regardless of whether it’s a mistake of my own or someone else’s. The Internet is probably not a good place for me, now that I think about it…
On top of OCD, I also have bipolar disorder. So I have uncontrollable emotions on top of uncontrollable rituals and urges. It’s a great life!*
*Really, though, life isn’t that bad - I only need to take meds when I’m about to go into a fit. And the OCD doesn’t really interfere with my life that much…except that my desk layout isn’t even and it’s driving me insane…