Breana Ritchie - Dont Mind Me, Its My OCD: Laughing My Way Back from the Edge of Reason

Published by Sweetgrass Publishing at Smashwords

Copyright 2018 by Breana Ritchie

All rights reserved. No part of this book may bereproduced or used in any manner without the express writtenpermission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations ina book review.

Visit the authors website at www.breanaritchie.com

First Edition 2018

ISBN: 978-0-692-04554-1 (ebook)

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoymentonly. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people.Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For my mom, who made me believe I could soar.

Contents

Introduction

One, two,three, four, five, six, seven.

Off, off, off, off, off, off, off.

Lock, lock, lock, lock, lock, lock,lock.

Sound familiar? Does it make you feel happyor sad? Anxious or relieved? Exhausted or invigorated? Calm ordistressed? Confined or liberated? A bit of everything?

You are not alone. It is estimated that overtwo percent of the population suffers from Obsessive-CompulsiveDisorder in the United States, and it doesnt discriminate. We arein good company with the likes of Howie Mandell, Cameron Diaz, LenaDunham, Charlize Theron, Leonardo DiCaprio, and David Beckham whohave all been candid about their OCD tendencies. Im not keen onbeing a statistic of any kind, but I am definitely a woman with alot of bizarre habits, rituals, and thoughts ranging from annoyingto almost paralyzing. Believing catastrophe is imminent if Im noton constant alert, and taking measures to prevent serious harm, isa challenging and exhausting way to live. I simply cannot moveforward unless certain actions are performed, whether they makesense or not. These obsessions and compulsions showed upunannounced on my doorstep one day and decided they liked me enoughto stay. They stick close by my side when Im stressed or sad,which would make them awesome friends if they werent soinsidious.

A lot of people use the term OCD loosely,announcing they are afflicted without understanding the disorder,but that doesnt get under my skin. The term is bandied about somuch it makes the disorder seem mainstream, rather than the dark,scary secret we are hesitant to discuss. Its healthy to illuminateit and engage in thoughtful conversations, but Ive realized even Ilaugh in certain situations and say, Im so OCD, keeping asense of humor whenever possible. That doesnt mean the journey hasbeen easy, to which Im sure those with debilitating OCD symptomscan attest, and I would never make light of their pain in dealingwith these challenges. However, I dont need to stake my claim inthis disorder, so if others want to call dibs on it, Im happy toshare!

If some, or all, of my story resonates andoffers you comfort, humor, and a sense of belonging, it will haveserved its purpose. If I offend your sensibilities with my uniquebehavior, rememberits not you, its me!

In the Beginning

I cant pinpoint exactly when it allbegan, but I can evoke clear memories of my budding obsession withgerms and order and feeling uncomfortable in my skin. Looking backwith a proper perspective, Ive realized my home life was stressfuland scary at times due to my alcoholic father who was the source ofunrelenting tension and turmoil. He stumbled in late eacheveningafter knocking back untold beers with his drinking buddiesto cap off a long workdaybut those few hours in his presence feltlike an eternity. It didnt take long to conclude that thescreamfests, flying dishes, and threats of divorce werejeopardizing my entire world and sense of security. Coming home oneday to a police car in the driveway left me breathless and fearingthe worst, but it was just another round in their endless bout ofhurled obscenities, food, and accusations. It seemed necessary tocreate a sanitized environment for myself, which should haveprovided a semblance of control in an otherwise uncontrollableworld, but instead spawned a neurotic child.

The fateful day my mother kicked my fatherout brought us welcome relief from the pandemonium, but a vividmemory of him stuck with me long afterward. He had turned to walkout the door for the final time and neglected to hug me goodbye or,at the bare minimum, acknowledge the sad little girl in the corner,eyes teary and wide as saucers, before his abrupt departure. Thisdevastating sense of abandonment was confusing since I had noemotional connection to this man by any stretch of the imagination.His idea of bonding was encouraging me to pull his finger so hecould grab my hand and fart on it with glee; tossing grapes into mymouth like a trained seal; and watching the odd episode of TheStreets of San Francisco, Columbo, or Kojak together. Iclung to these moments of frivolity, for soon his dominant alterego would arrive on the scene and abscond with my homework.Why? Because his boorish demands to prepare him a late-nightsalad with a side shot of liquor did not line up with my goals forthe evening.

Deception was second nature to thisphilanderer who consorted with floozies and discovered the meaningof life in the bottom of his whiskey bottle. My bedroom door satlopsided on broken hinges after his clumsy kick to gain access tomy mother; she sought refuge in my room whenever he thunderedthrough the house in a cloud of cheap perfume and cherry brandy. Heknew nothing of her evacuation plan to leap out the ground-floorwindow, and she was sipping coffee at our next-door neighborshouse before his head poked throughJack Nicholson-style.

Hes a good provider, my mother feltobliged to say, but her weary expression belied her attempts todefend his pathetic shortcomings as a father. He did supply fundsfor the necessities in life, but for a fun-filled day at the localfair he would hold a couple of bucks hostage until we wheedled himinto releasing them into our eager, outstretched palms. Thanks,Dad. Well enjoy sharing our pint-sized cotton candy whileeveryone else is having a blast on the rides and playing sillygames to win the crappy but coveted prizes. Our beloved motheralways came to the rescue, which allowed us to have as normal achildhood as she could manage. All we had to do was stand guardwhile she slid a few crisp twenty-dollar bills out of his metalcash box and into her pocket, after he had counted it eachevening. Timing was everything in our household. It didnt work outso well for me after his ousting, because I was sent to fetch themonthly child support checks. I was subjected to the spectacle of agrown man three sheets to the windblubbering into his booze-lacedcoffeeand wished I could twitch my nose like Samantha inBewitched and magically disappear.

It took years to understand I wasnt afreakI merely handled situations in a different manner than otherindividuals. Once I realized there were others who counted, andtriple-checked, and would rather die than touch something deemedunsanitary, the relief washed over me in soothing waves.

Not knowing that at the time, however, meantI was besieged with misery and spent an inordinate amount of mywaking life sweeping away imaginary dirt, scrutinizing mysurroundings, and protecting my belongings with unexpectedferocity. Doorknobs and light switches made me twitchy. Gettinginto bed at night was an ordeal because I knew unwanted things werein there, though I couldnt see them. My hands attacked theseinvisible invaders, drowning my fear with fury as I swept themaway. The minutes ticked by, keeping time with my methodicalstrokes until I became too tired to continue. I lined up my stuffedanimals according to their sturdiness, tucking in stray legs, arms,or tails hanging over the edge of the bed. Exposed limbs aggravatedme to the point of sleeplessness. I hated leaving this safe zoneduring the nightif I disturbed the hideous creature skulking undermy bed, it would surely seize my ankles with its bony fingers andthat would be a nightmare from which Id never awake. Instead, Ilay frozen in my toasty sheets, ignoring my own pep talk aboutsurviving the few steps to the bathroom. I was a mama bear aroundmy precious babies, but if Im being honest, I might havesacrificed one to save myself. Im glad I never had to learn whatkind of person I would be in that situation.