I read a book about storytelling. There were several story prompts and some of them made me think about having OCD. Specifically, this idea: I have OCD, but I am scared that everyone will find out that I am secretly a very messy person, and no one will believe that I have OCD.
It isn’t such a crazy idea. When I was younger, I never connected myself to someone who had OCD because all the images I ever saw were people who were obsessively clean and who wanted to constantly wash their hands and get away from germs. There’s never been a time in my life that I have ever worried about germs. The funny part is while I would watch the TV seeing a character obsessively washing their hands and thinking that could never be me, I would be sitting there picking at my cuticles without even realizing it. There’re some compulsive behaviors that I can deal with a little bit, but that’s one I can’t.
I can’t remember when I didn’t pick at my nails. I have always done it. My mother tried all kinds of scare tactics and bribes to get me to stop and nothing ever worked. I started to think I had a problem when I made my husband stop holding my hand so that I could pick at my fingernails during a movie. However, it wasn’t until I was diagnosed with OCD, that I really understood that I had a compulsive behavior. I got this great idea. I would use a therapy golf ball and hold it in my hand and roll it around in my hand with my fingers to distract myself so that I wouldn’t pick at my nails. It didn’t work. While driving I had one hand on the steering while and the other hand holding the golf ball. Without my realizing it, I found myself picking at my nails, I looked down at I had moved the ball from one hand to the other just so I could have a free finger to pick at a nail. Here I was juggling a steering wheel and a golf ball in one hand just so I could have a free hand to pick at my nails.
It really doesn’t matter what images they show on TV, movies, etc. It doesn’t matter what other people say. And yes, I have had plenty of armchair psychologists tell me that “they don’t see it,” when I tell them I have OCD. What matters is how I experience the world.
I guess that is why God says judge not less ye be judged. We all have our own unique experience of the world and even if we don’t “see it.” We still need to keep an open mind when someone tells us that their experience of the world is different from ours. No one can really know what is in my heart except for God.
My faith saved me. May God’s peace reside in all of our hearts.
