OCD and ME

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

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