(After reading this, I was like. . .Dude. Not nearly as light as you like to keep your entries. But I'm going to leave it anyway. I'll be back to normal by next time. I'm also quitting with the song lyric titles; they're exhausting. I think I'm going to take the Friends [TV show] approach to titles, and just tell you which one it is.)
I have started this entry 3 times, and keep deleting what I write. I think it's a Thursday thing. Either that, or the fact that I had a absolute OCD breakdown last night, and I don't think I've fully recovered from it.
Here, it should be noted that I legitimately have an OCD diagnosis. It's an actual thing that they medicated me for, but the medication made me feel like such crap, I stopped taking it. I felt like I would rather have minor problems all the time and major problems occasionally than feel like crap always.
It drives me up a wall and down another wall when people are like, "Oh, yeah, I totally have OCD! I can't stand it when my shoes are out of order! And if something's out of place? I just can't stand it. OH EM GEE, I've got the OH SEE DEE!"
That's called being anal retentive. Big difference.
It's kind of like those girls in college (you know the ones) that make out with each other at frat parties so the boys can watch, and then on their MySpace page (because people like this still use their MySpace pages for trolling), proudly proclaim their bisexuality. But the fact of the matter is, the only time they think about women is when they're making out with them so heterosexual dudes will get turned on and then they can take one of the aforementioned dudes back to their dorm room with them, get wasted on a couple of Miller Lites, hook up, and then the next day get on their MySpace page and write, "OMG, I'm totes a bi-grrl because I have a boyfriend AND a girlfriend!"
These people drive me crazy. And that's how I feel when anal retentive people translate their quirks into being obsessive-compulsive.
Along the same vein, a lot of people don't understand that OCD doesn't necessarily mean that the person washes their hands 500 times a day, or that they can't go to sleep until they switch a lightswitch 17 times. For some people, yeah, that's the case. But that's the extreme case. What it comes down to is that it's an anxiety thing.
This is a really good synopsis of what it's like. It's. . .horrible. I won't go into last night's work at the library, but a lot of things just felt like they were spiraling out of control, and by the time it was time to leave, I had to sit in my car for a while before starting out to try to regroup. Then I called D and yelled for like 10 minutes, just because I didn't know what else to do.
I don't know why I felt the need to share all of this, but there it is. Needing things in order doesn't necessarily mean you have OCD. It's more of a feeling of not being able to control your own brain, and the obsessive thoughts in it.