The Woes Me See In OCD

Yeah this article is going to have a humorous bent to it, so if you’re suffering from this condition and you are sensitive about it maybe it’s best to, I don’t know, go put on a comely sweater, argyle socks and the Bee Gees “Massachusetts” (I Will Remember Massachusetts 4X), where the Australian-born singer who was born in Massachusetts leaves his home state to go to San Francisco and then comes back because, apparently, he forgot to turn on the lights?

I reserve the right to make fun of OCD because I suffer from its symptoms, as my loving wife and supportive daughters remind me of at freakish regularity. Although I have been and will probably be reprimanded for making light of it and and not publicly treating it as “no laughing matter,” it is very difficult for me not to do so, since the jokes come so easily just thinking about it.

I also don’t like double negatives.

At least it’s easy to tell whose coffee is whose…

Consider the two cups on the left. A normal person would see two cups of coffee and be done with his/her thoughts on the matter. I however, wonder why I wrote that the cups are on the left and not on the right, and why the cup on the right (left) was made slightly more oval than the left (right) one. What was wrong with the porcelain… um…blower? the day he made the cup? It bothers me, and I very much disapprove of such lapses in the porcelainic arts, but am strangely unirked by the same crimes when writing. Like when I create words like ‘porcelainic’ and ‘unirked’.

Come to think of it, I am bothered by it, since these words now appear on my screen marked with an eye-catching red dotted line underneath that is stretched taut and sawing away on my composure like this (be patient and hardy-you must watch until the horrifying end to know how I truly feel (but OK if you’re fainthearted DO NOT watch this (I could be mean and tell you to watch it anyway but I’m a good guy (OMG I’m trapped in an endless loop of parentheses, being crushed into ever smaller thought portions (remember that Trash Room (?!) in the first Star Wars? I don’t.), with no hope of escape!)))).

I escaped. But seriously, all kidding aside, how can you not laugh at my thought process in the paragraph above. Not being able to laugh at sick thoughts like that is not being able to laugh at T****, which, technically, is no laughing matter, since he is the President and Great Exalted Leader of our increasingly mediocre country.

I am also bothered by the whole left/right thing up there, since it does not look neat.

There are some of you who would argue that the right (left) cup is round–not oval at all–and I am glad for you, since your eyes are unable to waste their time noticing such peculiarities. But we persons of keener eyesight beg to differ. We notice slight differences and spend, unfortunately, too much time dealing with these differences. I do not believe living this way is normal or healthy, unless one is white, in which case it is acceptable and should be encouraged, since alternatives, like mass murder and child pornography, are less harmless.

That would be a cool name for a character in an OCD crime novel I probably won’t write: ‘Les Harmless’. Since no one in their right minds would buy it. Here I go again. Those two sentences don’t fit well together, like the cups in the example above-there’s a disharmony of intent, whatever the fuc- that is. ‘Disharmony of Intent’ sounds like a rotten Hip Hop band, one that would cover the Bee Gees hit “Massachusetts,” until it was totally dead with scratches, overdubs, underdubs, and, dare I say, a tuba.

Why did the lights go out in Massachusetts? And what’s to remember about it? The power outages we had growing up, usually snow-induced, were unusual, but sort of like having power only dimmer. No need to sing about it.

Doing the “research” for this article, I stumbled upon a website that sells T**** merchandise. What do they sell there? What kind of person points to a T**** merchandise and says, “I want that!” And then spends his hard-earned money on it? I digress, but it’s almost impossible to stay away from the topic, the way I find it impossible not to joke about OCD:

Are you down with OCD?
Yeah! You know me!

With humble apologies to Naughty by Nature.

But this idea (I mean that one five paragraphs ago, remember?) begs further analysis. You know, that it’s OK for white people to have this disorder. I have read in some medical circles that OCD is a medical issue for persons of every race and color, which is, like, race.

I do not want to argue with anyone in the medical community because I have, like, no facts or anything, but can you picture ANY person of color fussing over trash the way I do. And maybe, yes, there are individuals who have color on their skin but still have the same symptoms that lead me to save the small plastic bags in order to better pack paper and plastic wrappers into a tidy, room-saving bundle. To which I respond (to myself) “Is Mike Tirico really black?” Are you really a woman if you stand by and watch T**** prey on other women? Is Bruce Jenner really a man? Gee these questions are getting confusing now…

Having a culture and an identity is cool. What’s cool about OCD? Now there’s a challenge: write a book/ do a show about someone cool with OCD.

Just found this:…/301836-ocd-cool.html, a page on the internet that apparently talks about OCD. I wanted to link you to an article they have about it being cool now to have OCD but every time I try to get to the article, I am informed that my IP address has been banned. Is that like the Penalty Box of Silence again?

At the top of the page is another message that says I haven’t signed in yet, and I should ‘click here’ to do so. When I do, I get to that same page again and am still banned. I tried to sign in with the ‘sign in’ button, but I only return to the same page again where I’m banned. How do they know? #spooky…

I have now perused several different media outlets, mostly from experts in their field, at least I’m led to the impression that they are, and two things come to mind when leafing through their mountains of information. 1.), Nobody seems to know what causes OCD. Gee, but isn’t OCD a pesky little bugger? And 2.), A whole lot of information about OCD is delivered in a very serious manner, and many articles go into great detail when discussing OCD horror stories, implying that having to turn the lights on and off five times–because the number five is “good”–is the first step down the road to epic, total, and very painful annihilation. Ouch!

I’m sure, first of all, that these insinuations are exactly what OCD sufferers need to set their mind at ease. OCD is all about anxieties; the fears one has about this or that are magnified, and a sufferer performs this task or engages in that behavior to alleviate these issues. How is drawing more attention to these issues and magnifying their significance going to help?

I hope one can at least see now why I choose to poke fun at my issues, since they are not to be respected as normal, desirable behavior anyway. Which brings me to the other point.

No one knows what causes OCD. If that doesn’t sound like a crock of shit I don’t know what does. Ask a person of color if the powers that be are lousy at locating things they deem despicable. There’s terrorists around the world about whom we can say with the utmost certainty, thanks to superior American technological wizardry made in Taiwan, that they stand and crinkle, or squat and fold, or sit and crinkle, etc.

I understand. It’s great for business if the customers are scared. If you haven’t learned this yet I feel sorry for you. Anyway, if you’re scared about OCD and its affects on your life, and the doctors and pharmacists advise you to pump yourself up with Prozac and Zoloft, what are you going to do? How is the cause supposed to be addressed if you’re zonked on Zoloft? O…oh yeah, nobody knows what causes it. How convenient.

I am the last person to tell people not to listen to doctors or medical professionals, mainly because of the lawsuits that might follow, but, and, as I say, I have no medical training whatsoever, you may use my advice or not as you see fit–if you suffer from OCD you are in DESPERATE need a nice fat doobie.

Thanks to Alexas_Fotos on Pixabay for this inspiring and possibly racist image.

I would like to see the statistics on the relationship between people with OCD and being high strung. I know many people with OCD, and many who are high strung, and they all have the same address. Wait that joke didn’t work. But you get my drift. I hope.

I think we can all agree that stress and being high strung is not healthy–why not try something that really works? Is it so hard to go with the flow? To be laid back? Are you afraid to miss something?

Try to be high strung when you’re high. Try to obsess and fuss when you’re high. If you are or can you’re not high enough. Or have a real problem (try Zoloft!). Or both!

The point I’m trying to make which will be so picked apart, destroyed, ignored, deflected, and distracted from by the powers that be, since the drugs THEY sell mean big business, as do the therapies, is that your health is your own responsibility. Not some psychiatrist’s, not Johnson & Johnson’s, Roche’s, or Bayer’s, not even some Manic Preacher‘s.

Finally, it would be remiss not to address trauma here. OCD would never be able to gain a foothold in one’s subconsciousness without trauma, usually emotional. Like for example your parents divorce when you were ten, or Tyree’s Helmut Catch.

If you’ve gone through trauma and not busied yourself with it to put it behind you, assuming you’re an adult, shame on you. If you think you can remain unaffected by trauma, dream on.

As part of our intense analysis of the disorder, please watch the following, starting at 8:23-8:27:

This legendary 2003 Swedish film, one of the only ones that has made its way into the virtually impregnable American fortress of “culture” (with the possible exception of Owe, if that was Swedish), features a character played by something called Fares Fares, who cannot leave a car without beeping thrice, twice with a hand and once with his head. It becomes so compulsive (or obsessive?) he even returns to his cracked up car, despite being on the run from the police directly behind him, to beep again. In minutes 103:03 to 103:30:

This example will also be on the midterm, in the section entitled Scandinavian Movies of 2003 Containing Characters With OCD And One Who Does…This.

In closing, I’d like to remind OCD sufferers that I am one of you. That’s me spending way too much time “organizing” the trash. That’s also me at the beach wasting energy trying to get ALL of the sand off of his towel. If you’re wondering why someone driving by you on the highway just beeped driving under the bridge-that was me. Someone told me once as a joke it’s good luck to do that, and even if it was a joke I’m not going to be the one to ignore the free chance of acquiring good luck, or, God forbid, cause bad luck to bring misfortune, pestilence, and oval coffee cups into my life.

I hope I’ve at least managed to entertain you. Being able to laugh at yourself is important, because it teaches you that you have a future in comedy and should quit your day job immediately. A sense of humor about this condition is the first step in healing, since it’s impossible to laugh at OCD and not consider your behavior silly, WHICH IT IS! The tricky part is that, once you’re able to laugh at the symptoms of OCD, it’s time to address the causes. That can be messy.

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