I wonder if Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) was invented by moms and dads who were raising small children among an ever-expanding sea of tiny, plastic toys…
Most people I’ve met describe themselves as at least slightly obsessive in certain circumstances.
I describe myself as more than just slightly. But not full blown OCD.
My OC behaviour began to evolve once we moved into this tiny bungalow 19 years ago. (I see this now…)
I have hindsight about many things when it comes to this house we live in. If you’re a regular reader here you know I’m unhappy with how we ended up here and the stuff I went through during the baby stage of my two kids.
More recently, it was Michael who caused me to tune into this behaviour again. He posted a photo on his blog which just reinforced to me that quarantine life does, in fact, heighten my obsessive compulsive behaviour.
This is the picture he posted on top of his blog post.
You see it too, don’t you? I mean…
HOW can someone be so illogical in organizing their coloured pencils? 😵
This is what I said in the comments.
Side note: I just showed this picture to my partner and asked him if anything bothered him about the image. He stood there and made a few comments like “oh, it’s a bunch of pencil crayons” and “it’s made to look like a zipper”. He is obviously not normal. Also, he obviously doesn’t understand me. 😐
Anyway, I admit I’m usually suffering a relatively mild case of OCD. Only during times of stress or uncertainty I get a little anal… 😳 It’s during those times I find myself pacing around this house looking for things to control.
Things that the other inmates who live with me find irritating. (Surprise!) 😀
I’m not saying any of us is right or wrong… (ok, I’m a little more right than they are. 😛 )
I’m saying, I need to be able to control some things so I can find peace. Internal peace.
Tidy rooms void of clutter induce calm and peace in me.
Clutter and mess induces the opposite…
I’m looking for a rational explanation as to why this is.
And I found the answer.
In times of uncertainty, the immediate physical environment appears to be more controllable than the exterior life outside.
In other words, I am able to control the mess inside the house. I am however unable to control what goes on outside in the world, especially now during the pandemic. There is a lot of uncertainty out there… 😷
So bottom line is this:
I am a control freak. (Am I?) 😢
I’m not trying to be…and now that I’m more aware, I can try to be more flexible and understanding (without letting the house turn into a landfill)…
Here’s an example of my struggles:
My daughter last night sat among her mess and clutter in her little craft corner after she and her brother finished the dinner dishes and cleaned the kitchen.
Cleaned, of course, means that they left several things for someone else to deal with. So I putter around and finish up to my standards.
It makes me feel a little bit more in control. I move over toward the dining table, which is adjacent to her craft corner, and start stacking things and wiping things and re-ordering things that are not traditionally housed on top of the dining table.
This causes her to get annoyed with me. Inevitably, our conversation will goes something like this:
NotSoAngelic Tween: Can you stop?
MeanMom™: Stop what? Didn’t I tell you that you need to pick up all the stuff off the floor and sweep?
NotSoAngelic Tween: I knoooooow…
MeanMom™: Why didn’t you do it earlier?
NotSoAngelic Tween: Leave me alone, I’ll do it later! (It’s 8:30 pm…)
MeanMom™: I asked you yesterday, and it’s messier today. There’s a lot of stuff you could put in your drawers…
NotSoAngelic Tween: No! I don’t want to! Leave me alone!
MeanMom™: Your mess is traveling. There’s all this crap on the table now. And behind your chair. And blocking the vent. Move the bins off the vent! Put your stuff away!
NotSoAngelic Tween: LEAVE ME ALONE!
I don’t know what the answer is. Perhaps if her room was larger than a broom closet, and not in the basement, I could just banish her there and close the door, but alas…this isn’t possible in this house.
I could leave her alone and tackle it the next day, during daylight hours, but the kid makes noise when I touch her stuff and so does her mom (me 🙄 ) and the man downstairs is teaching class over an audio system…ugh.
So, I sit here feeling utterly helpless and cry into the social internet instead. (You’re welcome.)
I see her mess to the left of me right now as I type this. It looks like it has grown exponentially in conjunction with the latest covid graphs over the past 24 hours.
There is no escape because we’re all inmates during this pandemic.
And, to top it all off, other bloggers
take delight in are provoking me by posting pictures of illogically sorted pencil crayons. (I’m just kidding… ) 😉
What has the world come to?
So there you go. I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Perhaps the next step is to commence a 12-step program.
Anyone want to join in?