Skip to main content

Observing 'normal' behavior

About 10 years ago, I began noticing that I study people I consider "normal" to see how they react in certain situations. Like a researcher studying the ways of animals in the wild. How do people who don't have OCD act, compared to how I present myself?

How does my brother greet someone he's meeting for the first time? Seems like he's really listening when the person tells my brother his name, as opposed to what I tend to do -- think about how the first thing out of my mouth could offend the person. I'm often more focused on what I'm saying, in an effort to get it just right. Those first words out of my mouth sometimes seem like I'm walking on a high wire.

How does my girlfriend walk past a mirror? She stops and looks, as opposed to what I do -- which is do all I can to avoid seeing my reflection. I've never been diagnosed with body dysmorphic disorder but I think there's a 90 percent chance I have some degree of it. I can't stand my appearance most of the time.

How's my best friend watch a football game with our favorite team on the field? Oh, look, he's enjoying the game and having fun -- as opposed to what I'm doing, which is generally trying to not think or do certain things, which of course will impact how they play and I'll be responsible for their failure. (I'm never responsible for my team winning, just losing, oddly enough.)

I've found this observational behavior a bit unsettling, but truly revealing.

And I do try to learn from it -- sort of a fake it til you make it approach as I work through my OCD.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The day I turned claustrophobic

I never thought I was claustrophobic -- it never even occurred to me that I might be. Until I went for my first MRI. I'm not sure this has anything to do with OCD, though in my case I think it does, because now when faced with an MRI I tend to catastrophize -- focusing on having the worst possible experience in that tube weeks ahead of the actual appointment. For my first MRI I was offered a Valium to keep me calm. I cockily said no, don't need it, and proceeded to get on the MRI table. My recollection is that I didn't start to panic right away, as they slid me head first into the tube. But I do recall starting to get a little uncomfortable. Then they handed me a panic button in case I needed to get out. They turned the machine on and in maybe a second -- at most -- I was hitting away at the button. Kicking my legs up and down. Yelling something to the effect of "Get me out. Now!" Of course I was embarrassed and it goes without saying that I got no furth...
2 comments
Read more

A fear of not knowing

Every Sunday night I feel compelled to check my work email to see what came in over the weekend. It's not that I'm required to, nor do I even need to, it's that I have a great fear of things going on that I am not aware of. It's OCD telling me, "You'd better check to see if your co-workers have been trying to reach you. Maybe you're missing something important. This could when they figure out you're no good at what you do. Check the email. Check it. Check it." Never mind that anyone who needs me can reach me by cell -- everyone has my number and I always have my phone. It's hard to describe the feeling of anxiety that comes over me. I tell myself not to check my email, but 99 percent of the time, it's less painful to essentially start my work week on Sunday night, than it is to ruminate on what might be going on without me knowing. For the first time, tonight, as I was checking my work email I saw a connection with something I used ...
Post a Comment
Read more

OCD, just like my dad

My father used to collect soap. I don't think he meant to, but I remember as a child, walking into my parents' bathroom and seeing a pile, a heap, of used bars of soap on his side of the counter. It didn't strike me as strange, so much, as it did unique. I never asked why there was so much soap -- why he didn't just finish off one bar before starting another -- but I probably wondered. In recent years there have been studies on whether OCD has a genetic component. I've been involved in a couple. But to me, there's no question, now, looking back with more knowledge, that my father's pile of soap was a sign of obsessive-compulsive disorder. My belief is that once he used a bar of soap for what his OCD brain told him was the "right" amount of time, it was time to move on to the next. Maybe OCD told him the old bar was no longer clean. Or maybe it just felt "wrong." My father was interesting in that he would shower just once a wee...
Post a Comment
Read more