Skip to main content

Good letters, bad letters

I wrote previously about my OCD brain convincing me there are "good" numbers (9, 10, 17, 18, for instance) and "bad" numbers (4, 6, 8, 13, 14 and more). Similarly, OCD tells me there are good and bad letters.

In the case of letters, it makes a little more sense. G and Y are good (G is the first letter in God, Y the first letter in Yahweh -- the Hebrew name for God -- so there's some logic to that). T is good (lowercase t is like the Christian cross, so again, it makes some sense).

But OCD doesn't stop there: D is bad (devil starts with d, though it's sometimes good because God ends with d). H is bad (it's the first letter in hell, but then, it's also good, because it's the first letter in heaven). How I feel about these letters at any given moment, I suppose depends on how I'm doing in general. I don't really know why my perception changes.

When I hand write "good" letters, OCD tells me they need to slant up and to the right. Why? Because OCD tells me up and to the right is more respectful of these good letters than any other direction. I've been known to write the letter y, for example, then trace over it until it's at an angle that feels "right."

Does that make sense? Of course not, but we're talking OCD here.

If I'm typing something and a word starting with a "good" letter, g for instance, is left of center on a line, I may delete a word or two so that the g word is now on the right side of the page, where OCD says it belongs. Again, right is good in my OCD mind.

Let's just say it can take me a little longer than most to write or type a letter to a friend!

And how do I know when I'm done with a word or a letter?

When it finally feels right, when the sensation that something is crawling under my skin, causing me discomfort and anxiety, has subsided -- maybe not completely, but at least to where I can move on.

I spent some time in therapy with an OCD specialist who had me write lines and lines of y's and g's over and over and not "fix" those that felt wrong.

It made a big difference, but it's still a work in progress.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

What OCD really looks like

We've all seen those cliche -- and inaccurate -- images of what OCD is: the crooked pencil in a line of straight pencils, the one yellow M&M in the pile of reds. So for my post today I want to try to show what OCD really looks like, at least to me. This proved especially challenging, because my most painful and most consuming OCD is mental -- whether it's "bad thoughts" or religiousity or catastrophizing. But I'm going to give it a try. For the most part, the images that follow probably look ordinary, boring. But to my OCD mind, they have some serious power. A normal bathroom soap dispenser? Yes. But my OCD tells me I have to pump it 7 times, or in multiples of 7, whenever I wash my hands. Just clothes in a closet. We've all seen this. But to my OCD mind, all the clothes "must" be facing to the right. Buttons to the right, prints on t-shirts to the right. I've tried hard to let them face left when I've made an error and i...

OCD's musical mind games

Most everyone gets a song stuck in their head now and then. I certainly do. But recently OCD has gotten involved and it's turned from a simple annoyance to something of a concern. I realize this is one of those things that the general population isn't going to fully understand -- I think you need to have OCD or another form of anxiety to get it -- but I feel pretty safe talking about it here. It sounds like I'm joking, but here goes: For about the past month, I'd say way more than half the time I wake up in the morning I have Wham's "Careless Whisper" going through my head -- instantly. "I'm never gonna dance again, Guilty feet have got no rhythm ... Should have known better than to cheat a friend." Just those words. I admit, this sounds funny. The scary thing is I don't hear this song enough, if ever these days, for it to be so stuck in my head. It was never a favorite song of mine either. I didn't NOT like it, I just never s...

Sneaking in rituals, so no one can see

When I'm around people I still have OCD, I just find ways of hiding it -- or more precisely -- of doing my obsessions and compulsions in ways that aren't so obvious. At work, I have a desk in the corner of the room that faces a wall. It seemed weird at first, but then it was somehow comforting. I now think it gives me a sense of privacy -- kind of having my own office, without the door. At my desk I do have my OCD moments -- counting, staring at things, praying and then of course sometimes hitting myself in the head to get certain compulsions to stop. As much as I think someone must have seen me do this, it's actually quite possible they haven't. I'm kind of an OCD ninja, or an OCD magician -- now you see it, now you don't. Did you see me do something compulsive? No? But I did, and right in front of you. At home I sneak my obsessive routines in when no one is looking -- praying, touching things a certain number of times, looking at things, showering and ...