Posts Tagged ‘conversations’

Dear OCD…

Posted: January 4, 2011 in OCD
Tags: , ,

I’d like to be able to drop a thought, okay?

It’s like I can’t run away from you sometimes. And it’s stupid shit, too. I said something dumb in a conversation today. Okay, yeah, it’s normal for me to feel embarrassed about it for a bit afterwards. It’s perfectly acceptable to be a little bothered about it.

But here’s the thing, OCD. Most people drop it after a short while. They drop that thought because it’s not useful to linger on the stupid shit they did. Everyone does stupid shit. It’s normal to fuck up. It’s not like I don’t recognize that. But you, OCD, won’t let me drop it. I’ve been thinking about the same thing since 3pm. I’ve tried hanging out with people, drowning it with music, watching endless reruns of House. I even jerked off. No luck.

The problem is that I know this is still going to be nagging at me when I go to bed tonight. It will probably even be there tomorrow night. Like an addict, you’re making me itch for that compulsion. Here I am, obsessing over stupid shit, and the only thing that will make me feel better is repeating that same stupid shit. The fix is the problem. You’re a sadistic fucker, you know that?

“Bezuidenthustra,” I say to myself, “you know that the dumb shit you said happened because you involved yourself in a phone call when you weren’t feeling all that great, and then, not surprisingly, you overreacted. You also know that the person you were talking to probably forgot about the whole thing soon after you hung up.”

“Yes,” I say to myself, “I know that.” I nod to show my agreement (always important when you’re talking to yourself).

“Right. So then you also know that, if you made a phone call right now to ‘correct’ the previous call, in your current perturbed mindset, you’re likely to overreact over something else, right? That’s what happens when you’re feeling a little off-kilter.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I sigh.

“And that will make it worse, won’t it? It’ll just reinforce the cycle, am I right?”

I contemplate for a moment.

“Well, am I right?”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” I purse my lips solemnly at myself and fold my hands. “So don’t do it.”

For most people, that’s all it takes. But you’re a shit-starter, OCD. You keep digging that thought up, tapping me on the shoulder, and reminding me how I’d love to fix things. Actually, no — you’re reminding me how you’d love me to fix things on your terms. You demand perfection from me. But it’s all a ruse. There is no perfection. You know that. You just want to watch me dance.

I fall for this shit all the time. I’m not going to do it this time, but, as usual, I’m going to feel anxious for a while over stuff that I could just as well have let slide. That’s what I hate the most. When I don’t listen to you, you kick me in the gut and piss on my face.

You’d do me a big favor if you could occasionally just let me drop some thoughts. And if you’re not going to let me do that, then I’m going to have to kick your ass too, just like Depression.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you both.

Fed up but unfortunately still yours,
Bezuidenthustra

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