OCD and ME

In July, I wrote about how "memory hoarding" is such a difficult aspect of OCD for me. Essentially, I see it as an OCD-fueled obsession to remember every detail of a moment, interaction, event so I don't forget it. Of course, that's almost impossible, so I end up regretting not being able to recall every detail. And to make it worse, by trying to remember every minute detail, I lose my view of the bigger picture, thus diminishing my recall even further. Last night, however, I think I found another aspect of memory hoarding. I had a great evening with friends at a comedy club and was pleased with myself for not doing the standard hoarding activities and just, instead, enjoyed the moments. But then, I noticed after I got home last night -- and then again today -- I started thinking about the evening, with my OCD brain telling me all the ways I messed up. How I "tainted" what was, sure, a fine evening but could have been so much better if I hadn't

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

In June, I wrote about "good" and "bad" numbers , according to my OCD. That's just the tip of the iceberg. My compulsions lead me to do a lot of things in certain number groupings. It's a fairly common OCD characteristic. In my case, sometimes those number groupings work in tandem with those "good" and "bad" numbers, sometimes they don't. OCD likes to play games. In this post, I wanted to just mention a fraction of my common numerical repetitions: 7: The number of times I pump the soap dispenser. If 7 doesn't feel quite right, then I increase it by multiples of 7, usually stopping at 21. (I go through a lot of liquid soap.) 4: Paper towels I pull out of the dispenser in the restroom to dry my hands. If 4 doesn't satisfy my brain, 7 generally does. If there are other people around, it's usually the quicker the better. 4: The number of pieces of garbage I will often throw out at one time or in quick succession. I

Mirror, mirror on the wall, I can't look at you at all... If it were socially acceptable, I would cover up all mirrors I come across. I can't stand looking at myself -- even catching a glimpse of myself. If there's a positive attribute, my brain puts a negative spin on it. And if it's a negative attribute -- of which there are many to chose from -- my brain takes the opportunity and runs with it. I've never been formally diagnosed with body dysmorphic disorder, but given how I see myself, and the connection of BDD to OCD, I'd say there's a pretty good chance I have it to a degree. Growing up I was way overweight and short -- I'm still short (still waiting for that growth spurt into adulthood) but having spent time at the gym and paying some attention to my food intake, the weight has evened out. That said, when I look in a mirror, I see the unattractive stuff. Is it all real? I honestly don't know for sure. It seems real. And my OCD trainin

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

Early on in my battle with OCD, someone described it as being a bully. I didn't really get the comparison at first, but now I see it's 100 percent accurate. Like a bully, OCD picks on your weaknesses. Like a bully, you can beg it to stop and it won't -- in fact, it generally takes your begging as a sign to attack even harder. I know, because I've had bullies -- and OCD -- and I see the similarities. Though truth is, OCD is a bigger bully than my several human bullies ever were. Some examples: One of my OCD issues is having what I call "bad thoughts." Even as a kid I referred to them as "bad thoughts," I guess, because to categorize them more specifically seems impossible. They are all over the map. Anyway, when the subject of the thought is a person, it's inevitably a person I care deeply about. The bully knows I love this person -- my parents, a friend -- so it targets them. I don't tend to have bad thoughts about people I don't

As much as I have come to depend on technology providing instant access to information, I sometimes wonder if it's causing me harm when it comes to OCD. I mentioned in a previous post that I have a great fear of forgetting things -- people's names, common facts, it runs the gamut. When I can't recall something, I go into a panic. Breathing becomes more difficult. My mind spins into thoughts of dementia. I'm sure many, if not most, therapists would tell me to sit with that discomfort of not remembering as a means of exposure therapy. Sit with it as it diminishes, and then ultimately, the hope is, I become desensitized to it and it holds no power. I agree with that approach. But so many times, now, as I sit with the anxiety of forgetting something I know it's just a Google search away. And more times than not, I take the 20 seconds and find the answer online. What was the name of the actor who starred in that movie? Check with Google. What band was it tha