A few people in my family (including myself) claim to have OCD. And they/we probably do. Nobody has been officially tested, and nobody’s seen a doctor about it. Sure, we’ve all done the “do you have to check that the stove has been turned off five times before going to bed/do you have to eat ALL the peas on your plate because you don’t want one to feel left out/do you worry that you might accidentally shop lift one day when clearly you wouldn’t because you don’t think that shop lifting is a socially acceptable thing to do” online quizzes, and the answer was yes, bloody hell, yes.
A few of us (well, one of us) can’t even eat his supper and would rather starve “if there are tomatoes, or tomato sauce, or pieces of tomato skin (that’s the worst), or the suggestion of tomato products anywhere around, on, or in the near vicinity of his dinner plates, the stove, or the kitchen counter in general” and he’s not two years old. He’s twenty-four. To him, tomatoes are like the devil and should be banned from this planet, apparently. Ah, good old first world problems.
Yes, we are all a little neurotic around here, and sometimes – just sometimes – we like to give that neuroticism a name, so we label ourselves OCD, and it makes us feel better; it makes us feel like we are NOT alone, like other people do and think crazy shit as well.
Continue reading “Why Does It Seem Like Everyone In My Family Has OCD?”