OCD is a frightening condition, characterized by obsessive routines (compulsions) and thoughts, often referred to as “magical thinking.” It affects roughly 5 million Americans at some point in their lifetime.
It’s distracting. It’s real. It’s serious. And very scary, especially for teenagers, for it’s in those teenage years that the symptoms of OCD first appear.
But what’s universal about OCD is that we all have our quirks, our “things,” our obsessions that we cling to for comfort. Over the next four weeks, I’ll be hosting discussions on both the universality of OCD, as well as the seriousness of the actual disorder. I’d love to hear about your own quirks, your “things,” your obsessions that drive you (and your loved ones?) bananas.
It’s only right that I go first.
I’m an avid sports fan. Born in a suburb near Philadelphia, I’m hopelessly in love the Phillies, Eagles, Flyers, and Sixers. I have a long and sordid history of bizarre behavior when it comes to rooting for my team on TV. If my team falls behind, I change seats on the couch. Or change my snack from tortilla chips to pretzels. Or switch from water to juice. Or change t-shirts. Or lay down on the floor, as long as there’s a rug there (gotta draw the line somewhere).
If my team is ahead, I like to stick to what’s working: the certain snack, the winning beverage, the lucky seat. I avoid boastful phrases like “we got this,” “it’s over,” for fear that the tide will shift. Not until the game is over–really over, after the final buzzer/bell/pitch/whistle/horn–will I rejoice.
Luckily for me (and my wife), I’ve gotten better. The years have mellowed out my sports craze. But every now and then, usually in the playoffs, when the game gets tight, I play the mental game: the seat, the chips, the t-shirt . . . it all becomes a factor. If only the Phillies would appreciate all the work that goes into their playoff victories!!!
Outside of the sports world, I’m a huge fan of blue Precise V7 pens, I enjoy a morning workout, I usually park in the same spot at school, and I’m a sucker for the same breakfast: an “everything” bagel with butter.
The good news–and what separates these idiosyncrasies (or, yes, compulsive tendencies) from the serious disorder–is that my life will go on if I can’t find my favorite pen or the bagel store is closed or I overslept my morning alarm, and if someone takes my parking spot, I don’t hike up the stairs to hunt down the driver and demand that he immediately move his car or else I’ll crack him with a knuckle sandwich.
But some people do. They don’t use the term “knuckle sandwich” because it’s old and corny and sounds like something only my grandpa would say, but they do stress out and panic if things aren’t just so. And they do this every waking second of the day.
The sad thing is that even though everyone has their quirks, their “things,” their obsessions, very few people talk about them, so people with the actual disorder think they’ve completely lost their mind, which is scary for anyone, but especially for teens, for whom identity is so critical and confusing and fragile.
If you’d like to share your own quirks, please comment or feel free to reach me via the contact link above if you’d like to guest post.
Hopefully, these features over the next month will highlight the idiosyncrasies that we all share, and lessen the stigma (and fear) that OCD sufferers feel on a daily basis.
OMG, you’re as quirky as me! But, you’re right, too. We are not alone. Everybody struggles with some kind of quirk or anxiety. Sharing makes the load lighter for all of us. Thanks for starting this conversation, Matt!
Thanks, Stasia. Couldn’t agree more.
I could write you an anthology, but I promise to spare you. I’ll just share some of the quirks I’m told are on the unique side.
I don’t like things blowing around me – wind chimes, balloons, streamers, etc. It gives me an unsettling feeling, though I’m not sure what that feeling is. It’s not fear; more so a feeling that something is off. I struggle during the June, as all the neighborhood kids are graduating, warranting an ongoing need for balloons blowing from their mailbox. I’m often tempted to sneak out and clip them off.
Nothing can hang from my rearview mirror; I can’t handle it. And speaking of cars, my chest gets stabbed if a passenger accidentally brushes his or her sneaker against my dashboard, nicks the door with their seatbelt, or adjusts their seat from the way I had it.
At school, I could never leave until my board was set for the next day – date, agenda, objectives, etc. I had what my teammate described as “the unhealthiest organization system” she’d ever seen.
And if the Kentucky Wildcats are playing, I must wear something blue.
Paul,
This is great stuff. Complicated and honest and much appreciated. Any idea the reasons behind it?
I always assumed it was linked to my anxiety disorder, though I have no confirmation of that. I was never diagnosed with OCD, though at one point, was identified with OCD tendencies as a result of my anxiety disorder. The interesting thing is, I had the quirks above long before anything else surfaced. Blah; it’s all so complex.
Ah, those mysterious “tendencies.” I never understood what that meant.
I filled out the board (with the aim, date, and agenda) the date before too!
There are so many, but here are a couple :
Alarm clock (I just blogged about this and I’m totally seriously. I go through a ritual that I follow).
My blanket has lines on it–when I get in bed, the lines must be vertical. Actually, it bothers me if the lines are horizontal at any point and I feel compelled to change it. It drives my husband crazy.
I am also a same space parker and former board filler.
There are so many more, but they don’t take over my life. I think it’s because I realize it’s just a control thing that I use to cope with anxiety, so if for some some reason I couldn’t carry out my alarm clock ritual, or if someone absolutely made me sleep under horizontal lines, I can deal with it. But I rather not.
Thanks so much Jenny! What’s the alarm clock ritual? My character, Rene, also has a thing with clocks/time: he won’t get out of bed if the numbers add up to thirteen (i.e. 7:33 is bad luck because 7 + 3 +3=13).
I’m not that quirky but I live with someone who has mild OCD. He hates being touched by strangers (even if someone just brushes against him at the gym or grocery store) and he flips out if one of our many remote controls gets lost. He can’t watch ANYTHING on TV until all remotes are accounted for (and with four small kids, remotes go missing). Also, his gum, chapstick, keys, cell phone and writing notebook always have to be in their designated spots or he can’t relax. And one more–he also has a favorite brand of pen and can’t write with anything else! His biggest ritual is asking me over and over if he’s obsessing, LOL. Good thing I’m patient. I’m asked A LOT.
I can’t wait to read your book!
What an interesting post and subsequent comments. I’m glad I found your blog. I do wonder where the line is drawn for OCD vs. just quirky. Perhaps when it starts negatively impacting how you live?
Thanks for the comments, Steve. You raise an excellent point. I think the difference between quirks and OCD is the NEED. Those with OCD MUST MUST MUST complete their rituals for fear of great dangers. People with quirks/strange habits are just, well, a bit strange. But who isn’t?