And then there's me. Plain old Calypso. I wish it were so simple, but I'm just as damaged as those I mentioned before.
Sure, I don't quite hallucinate, or stick my fingers down my throat. I don't even pick my skin or hurt myself intentionally. I get decent sleeps most night, without waking up screaming from flashbacks or you know, not actually sleeping at all. Stealing isn't my type, neither is sticking around an abusive boyfriend.
Yeah, I just can't stand anything less than perfect or odd numbers or actually I can't look at something without my fingers itching to put it in order and, now that I think about it, everything has to be either in colour order, ascending, descending or chronological and also those laces aren't tied right, can you please redo them? And, sorry, your bed sheets weren't straight, I fixed them for you!
Each breath I take should be evenly spaced, each step I move must be take the same amount of time the last one did. I crave precision, perfection and peace.
Precise, exact, definite, pinpoint.
Perfect, complete, immaculate, flawless.
Peace, pride, relief, satisfaction.
It's my O.C.D. that makes me double check that all the power point and light switches are turned off every night. And then check once more. And then flick them all on and off four times.
It's my O.C.D. that convinces me to scrub at my hands after I touch something. It could just be a pen, a table, a pillow. I wash my hands until they are raw and blistered and only then will I be able to calm down. After that, I wash my hands twice again, for good luck.
It's my O.C.D. that makes me fix anything that is crooked, smudged or anything the tiniest bit flawed. I catch sight of it and my mind goes blank, my heart stops for a second and my fingers reach towards whatever it is and... I don't even realise what I'm doing. I like to think that O.C.D. means you control things, but O.C.D. itself is uncontrollable.
I call my family and loved ones each once every two days, to make sure that they are okay. Before I leave my house, I check that any water taps aren't leaking (What? It could flood within the 10 minutes that I'm away...), that the burglar alarms (Yes, plural.) are working and that all windows are closed securely (Every. Single. Window). After I leave my house, I check that each of my doors are locked exactly 6 times (Nothing more, nothing less).
In the morning, I brush my teeth for exactly 8 minutes, I floss between every teeth 4 times (Each tooth should take 8 seconds.) and swish my mouthwash around my mouth for 30 seconds.
I do not speak of the number 13, more than any other odd number, I do not touch the colour red (Satan, blood, H.I.V., AIDS associated), I do not use hot water, I do not eat out. I cannot hear the word death without repeating the word 'life' ten times. I gave up on romantic or sexual relationships long ago.
I lock away knives and sewing needles in case they somehow find their way into my hands and I hide sleeping pills in case I need to cook for someone and I end up poisoning them. I avoid driving as much as I can, but I could contract germs from public transport, I could injure myself while riding a bike, so I walk nearly everywhere I go.
I get anxious about the fact that I could become very sick if I don't eat enough but I worry that people will think that I am a pig if I eat too much. I stay far away from hospitals, with their illnesses and drugs.
I don't eat dry food or food with large portions as I could choke. I only buy shoes that have good grip and always have to buy new pairs as they could be too dirty. But I never throw away the old pairs, just keep them in neat rows at the back of my closet.
I sit with precise posture. I do not wear make-up. I do not use any chemicals.
I change my sheets and pillow cases every afternoon.
No, wait. Not me, I don't do any of that stuff. My O.C.D. does.
I am obsessive.
I am compulsive.
I am disordered.
My last chapter! Hope you enjoyed, I wrote this at the start of this year though and got a bit lazy. Maybe I'll fix some things later but it's so much effort aha love you guys xx