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

Could there really be benefits to having OCD?

It's not often, but sometimes to get a slight advantage on the bully that is OCD, I throw it a curve and think about the benefits of having OCD. Yeah, I know, there aren't many. And maybe it's stretching it to say there are any at all. But I came up with a few to throw in the bully's face. First, I believe having OCD has made me a compassionate person. There's no way to truly understand mental illness without experiencing it, in my opinion. I have empathy for others that I might not have if I didn't experience OCD first hand. I try hard to be non-judgmental. OK, I judge myself 90 percent of my waking hours -- but I do try hard to be non-judgmental of others. I give a lot of credit to my mother, who lived her life that way. But I also credit OCD. I have a better sense of what people may be going through because I know what I'm often going through. Speaking of my mother, she was excellent in a crisis. She was a nurse and a caretaker for her ill and a...

A catastrophe just waiting to happen

One of my OCD issues is thinking, expecting, the worst to happen. It's the catastrophizing OCD. I've discovered it's why often when I'm having a good time, my mind goes to how that good time could turn devastating any minute. OCD says: Sure, things are going great, now, but when has that ever lasted? People have died, they've left you, tragedy has struck.... why would this be any different? My theory is I was predisposed to this kind of thinking (more later on the hereditary nature of my OCD) -- and all my OCD brain needed was a little bit of reality to activate it. There are many instances in my life that I recall a nice time turning bad in an instant. It's happened to everyone, probably, but OCD likes to cling to the bad and replay it over and over to give it more power. Two of those good-to-bad instances, in particular, stand out. I was about 3 and my mother, grandmother and I were hiding from my grandfather who was coming down the stairs outside my...