Boy, do I ever need this

At long last, I made it back home Saturday night. I step out of the cab to see that Lil'E had been sitting in front of the door waiting on me for a good while. I loved the reunion and missed my family.

Then came church time on Sunday morning. Ah, for me Sunday mornings get to be about the rush. Everyone has to get up, get moving, get fed and dressed, and get in the car. Punctuality is an obsession of mine. This Sunday was a bit more hectic than many, so I'm on edge. So, what follows this? Why, my dear sweet little girl who waited by the front door decides to push my buttons. During worship, she exhibits - no, flaunts - the fact that she has switched the caps on the markers we gave her to color with. The red cap is on the black, the blue on the brown, the brown on the green, etc. She giggles as she sees me, quite obviously, restraining myself from grabbing them all away from her and putting things right. You see, she knows at the age of four that her daddy is obsessive/compulsive and knows just how to manipulate me for a good laugh on her part.

And then, as we were driving Sunday afternoon, Mrs. E randomly sees a billboard advertising this: the 14^th Annual OCF Conference. I did not realize that there was an Obsessive Compulsive Foundation, much less that they were holding a conference in my back yard next month. We laughed about that; but we both wondered if it was something that I might need, if not today then for the future.

It's no secret that I am, to some degree, OCD; although I am functional, I still have periods where it overcomes me and the results can end up hurting others (as I seek to right what my mind deems wrong). Don't put me in front of a video game, not if you ever want to interact with me again. If I play Tetris, I see the blocks falling in my mind 24/7. If it is something that requires more thought, I find myself strategizing all the time. This obsession I came to grips with when I visited a children's home and found myself playing their Nintendo rather than playing with the kids; I was terribly ashamed.

I mentioned the above marker caps being mismatched - I'm big time into things have to be in their proper place. When people visit our house and help out in the kitchen, they place items back where they think they belong. I follow behind them and completely rearrange things to their "proper" order. Mrs. E knows better and leaves emptying the dishwasher to me. Of course, I'll also rearrange everything someone has put in the dishwasher to a better, more "efficient" order. On the plus side with this, you should see how I can pack up for moving or storage!

I do count, though not so compulsively. I find myself driving and either counting poles and signs, or more often I'll count the time it takes to travel between them or the time between when the car in front of me passes a spot to when I pass the same spot. I know that the cat's eyes (reflectors in the road) are spaced so that when traveling at 60-mph you will pass one every second (that's 88 feet). I've counted the timing on and off over the last twenty years (since before I started driving). Walking through hallways I find myself reaching out to touch the wall at times, especially at corners. Walking down the street, I'll reach out to touch the occasional pole. I'll even arrange my footsteps, either to walk in step with people or to walk with specific spacing on tiled or sectioned floors.

I have no problems with germs. Dirt? Ah, who cares!

Oh, did I mention light switches? You know how sometimes there are two switches that control a single fixture? I hate it that they are not both up or both down at the same time. Hate it. In our living room, there are two lights, each with two side-by-side switches; one of the lights has a third switch on another panel. If that third switch is used, then the side-by-side switches don't match (both up or down at the same time). I will go out of my way to switch the third switch so that symmetry in the side-by-sides is restored. Lil'E also plays on this compulsion, at times.

Let's not talk about proper folding of papers.

So, what do you think? Should I attend this conference? Mrs. E says I should, even at $250 for the conference. Do I sound like a man in need of therapy for his OCD, or therapy for an overactive imagination? Maybe if I go, I won't feel so strange by comparison to some of these wack-jobs, er, obsessive compuslives.

Tags: Obsessive Compulsive, OCD, Conference, Disorder, Confessional