Dear OCD…

Posted: April 30, 2011 in OCD
Tags: , , , ,

I’m about to do something neither of us thought I’d be doing in a million years.

I’m about to learn how to eat like a grown-up.

Whoa, whoa, chill out. I know you’re not a fan. This is one of your key commandments, after all. I’ve been dipping toes in the wacky world of nutrition over the past month or two, but a full-on omnivorous diet? That’s sacrilege!

Ah well. You knew this had to happen at some point, OCD. This is just another place where I won’t let you put your grubby paws all over me anymore. No more bad touch, OCD! No more!

I’ll be honest with you: I’m a little fretful. I’m not sure where to start, and I’m not sure how freaked out I’m going to get. My food anxieties are the most irrational things on the planet (other than Sarah Palin, Creationists, and the Royal Wedding, of course), but just because they’re irrational doesn’t mean they’re not real. Last time I accidentally bit into a tomato I had the cold sweats for hours, remember?

Yeah, right now, unfortunately, every minor ingredient is a big deal. Now it’s up to me to sort out which ones are big deals because I really fucking hate their taste or texture and which ones aren’t big deals at all but were big deals only because you’ve been telling me absurd ghost stories about them for years. Sorting this out could take some time, and it’s going to take a lot of awkward moments and panic-stricken looks at clueless cooks and servers.

But you know what? I’m okay with that, OCD. Better late than never. If nothing else, this will be just one more chance to stick it to you.

That’s right, OCD. EAT ME.

Experimentally yours,

  1. […] it. Point is, you’re winning this battle. I’m talking about the eating thing. Right. Bet you knew that already, though. You’re probably off crowing about it to somebody […]

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