this is EXACTLY how I feel. I wish more people could understand it, so I'm posting it.
This is from a short story by Stephan King called "N." I have so much respect for Stephen King for this. It explains what it feels like to have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder perfectly. This is why I'm tired a lot. No one can see it (atleast most of the time they can't) but people who have severe OCD deal with it 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. And it's EXHAUSTING. And no one even knows it's happening, because they can't see it.
I sometimes picture these unfortunates as men and women being pecked to death by predatory birds. The birds are invisible - at least until a psychiatrist who is good, or lucky, or both, sprays them with his version of Luminol and shines the right light on them - but they are nevertheless very real. The wonder is that so many OCDs manage to live productive lives, just the same. They work, they eat (often not enough or too much, it's true), they go to movies, they make love to their girlfriends and boyfriends, their wives and husbands...and all the time those birds are there, clinging to them and pecking away little bits of flesh.
He looks at me, pale and not smiling now, a man being pecked to pieces by invisible birds. "Have you ever read "The Great God Plan," by Arthur Machen?"
I shake my head.
"It's the most terrifying story ever written," he says. "In it, one of the characters says 'lust always prevails.' But lust isn't what he means. What he means is compulsion."
...I'm hard put to understand how he finds time for any other activities. Yet OCDs almost always find a way. The idea of invisible birds recurs to me; I see them roosting all over N., pecking away his flesh in bloody nibbles.
... A man being pecked to death by birds can have little interest in last year's insults and injuries, or even last week's; he's got today on his mind. And, God help him, the future.
"There are three clusters," he resumes, speaking in a voice that is not quite steady. "Counting is the first. It's important, but not so important as touching. There are certain things I need to touch. Stove burners for instance. Before leaving the house in the morning or going to bed at night. I might be able to see they're off, but I still have to touch them to be absolutely sure. And the front of the oven door, of course, Then I started touching light switches before leaving the hosue or the office. Just a quick double tap. Before I get into my car, I have to tap four times on the roof. And six times when I get to where I'm going."
"When I load the dishwasher, I count plates. If there's an even number above ten in there, all is well. If not, I add the correct number of clean ones to make it right. Same with forks and spoons. There has to be at least twelve pieces in the little plastic caddy at the front of the dishwasher. Which, since I live alone, usually means adding clean ones."
In one week : "There are six hundred and four counting events, eight hundred and seventy-eight touching events, and twenty-two hundred and forty-six placing events. All even numbers, you'll notice. They add up to thirty-seven hundred and twenty-eight, also an even number. If you add individual numers in that total -3728- you come out with twenty, also even. A good number. Divide 3728 by two and you come out with eighteen-hundred and sixty-four. 1864 adds up to nineteen, a powerful odd number. Powerful and bad." He actually shivers a little.
"You must be very tired," I say.
To this he makes no reply, nor does he nod, but he answers, just the same. Tears trickle down his cheeks toward his ears.
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My numbers used to be 5 and 11. Now it's ten. Like everyone with OCD, I know it doesn't make any sense. But it is what it is. My main problem these days is the obsessive thoughts as opposed to the Compulisve actions (although I still have to sometimes say something to myself 10 times to make it "right".) Obsessive thoughts = thoughts or anxieties that I can't stop thinking/worrying about. They get stuck in my head and I have to keep thinking about them. I even dream about it at night, so I rarely get a break. I wish I could explain this, cuz that explanation sucks, but, alas, Stephen King does a much better job than me and he only talks about the compulsions.
I sometimes picture these unfortunates as men and women being pecked to death by predatory birds. The birds are invisible - at least until a psychiatrist who is good, or lucky, or both, sprays them with his version of Luminol and shines the right light on them - but they are nevertheless very real. The wonder is that so many OCDs manage to live productive lives, just the same. They work, they eat (often not enough or too much, it's true), they go to movies, they make love to their girlfriends and boyfriends, their wives and husbands...and all the time those birds are there, clinging to them and pecking away little bits of flesh.
He looks at me, pale and not smiling now, a man being pecked to pieces by invisible birds. "Have you ever read "The Great God Plan," by Arthur Machen?"
I shake my head.
"It's the most terrifying story ever written," he says. "In it, one of the characters says 'lust always prevails.' But lust isn't what he means. What he means is compulsion."
...I'm hard put to understand how he finds time for any other activities. Yet OCDs almost always find a way. The idea of invisible birds recurs to me; I see them roosting all over N., pecking away his flesh in bloody nibbles.
... A man being pecked to death by birds can have little interest in last year's insults and injuries, or even last week's; he's got today on his mind. And, God help him, the future.
"There are three clusters," he resumes, speaking in a voice that is not quite steady. "Counting is the first. It's important, but not so important as touching. There are certain things I need to touch. Stove burners for instance. Before leaving the house in the morning or going to bed at night. I might be able to see they're off, but I still have to touch them to be absolutely sure. And the front of the oven door, of course, Then I started touching light switches before leaving the hosue or the office. Just a quick double tap. Before I get into my car, I have to tap four times on the roof. And six times when I get to where I'm going."
"When I load the dishwasher, I count plates. If there's an even number above ten in there, all is well. If not, I add the correct number of clean ones to make it right. Same with forks and spoons. There has to be at least twelve pieces in the little plastic caddy at the front of the dishwasher. Which, since I live alone, usually means adding clean ones."
In one week : "There are six hundred and four counting events, eight hundred and seventy-eight touching events, and twenty-two hundred and forty-six placing events. All even numbers, you'll notice. They add up to thirty-seven hundred and twenty-eight, also an even number. If you add individual numers in that total -3728- you come out with twenty, also even. A good number. Divide 3728 by two and you come out with eighteen-hundred and sixty-four. 1864 adds up to nineteen, a powerful odd number. Powerful and bad." He actually shivers a little.
"You must be very tired," I say.
To this he makes no reply, nor does he nod, but he answers, just the same. Tears trickle down his cheeks toward his ears.
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My numbers used to be 5 and 11. Now it's ten. Like everyone with OCD, I know it doesn't make any sense. But it is what it is. My main problem these days is the obsessive thoughts as opposed to the Compulisve actions (although I still have to sometimes say something to myself 10 times to make it "right".) Obsessive thoughts = thoughts or anxieties that I can't stop thinking/worrying about. They get stuck in my head and I have to keep thinking about them. I even dream about it at night, so I rarely get a break. I wish I could explain this, cuz that explanation sucks, but, alas, Stephen King does a much better job than me and he only talks about the compulsions.