OCD - A Writer's Nightmare

 

If it wasn’t for OCD, I would have more hours in a day. Everything needs to be checked and double checked. Often I can be in the middle of a train of thought, writing away merrily, then I see a drawer that is slightly open. I try to ignore it, but it is distracting me; I can’t stop looking at it. My mind is now willing me to do something about it; a little voice in my head (my thoughts), say ‘No, leave it’.

Finally ‘mind’ wins, and I get up to close it.

That’s it, damage done, I have lost the train of thought; so, I sit and procrastinate until the thought decides whether or not to pop back into my head again. Remember I’m old, and old people often forget what they were going to do, so that could be a very long time.

Wait a minute… here it comes, and I am back on track; until a look at my two mobile phones (yes I have two), they are not lined up properly. I pause to sort them out, but one of the cases is misshapen; do I align it on the left, the right, the top or the bottom? I try all four, but I am still not satisfied. Finally, after several more tries, I decide to align the case spines and the bottom, then push them far enough away so that I can’t see the other two sides. Now where’s that train of thought gone?

It is a wonder I have ever managed to write a book, never mind eleven. Then again there must be around a hundred short stories, poems and books, lying around in drawers and computer files, begging to be finished. Even as I am writing this, I have 21,000 words of a novel screaming “When are we going to find out whether she ***** on the first date?” And I’m still looking at those mobile phones, wondering if I have lined them up right.

In between all this are toilet, lunch, and coffee breaks and all the rigmarole that comes with them.

I check the time on the computer clock; 3pm already, where has the day gone? Better get the dinner prepared. It is a good idea to get everything out of the fridge at the same time, as when I close the door I have to push it ten times to make sure it is shut. Can you imagine how long it takes to get a load of potatoes and veg out of the fridge, if you have to open and close the door several

times; then of course, you have to put back what you don’t use.

Wait a minute, we are also having meat for dinner, and that is kept in a separate fridge. While all this is going on, my mind is asking,

“Have you washed your hands?”

Now I definitely know I did, but I have to wash them again to make sure. I wash the meat and put it in the oven.

“Wash your hands, you touched raw meat.”

I obey.

“Are you sure you just washed them?”

I have peeled all the veg, washed them and put them in the pan.

“Did you wash your hands before washing that veg?”

I sigh, turn on the tap and wash my hands and the veg again.

I have put all the veg peel in the bin.

“You touched the bin. WASH YOUR HANDS.”

These days I only food shop once a week. If I need milk or bread during the week, I ask my partner Mick to bring it in. Because when I leave the house, I lock the door, and then I push it ten times to make sure it is shut. "I have just locked it for goodness sake, how could it not be shut?" If I am on my own, I get to the gate and have to go back and push the door ten more times, to make sure it is shut; "Of course it’s shut I pushed it ten times after I locked it, and now another ten times".

“But, are you absolutely sure it is shut?”

When I finally get halfway up the street, my mind says.

“Did you lock the door?”

Yes I did; but I still have to go back and make sure it is shut.

©Brenda Diskin 2021