Who decided that it is a condition to like things to be in the perfect orde? I like all the tins in my pantry to face the same way. I like to stick to the same routine day in and day out, weekly and monthly. It does not mean I have some disorder, right? I am just a very rigid person that likes predictability. And if all the tins in the pantry are sorted according to type and face in the same direction, then it is jut easier to find what you are looking for. And if my closet is color coordinated and my underwear and art supplies, then it just means that I like things organized and neat. And if I get upset when someone (including my family) interfere with my daily schedule or routine, or mess up my pantry and turn tins around on purpose, then it is not because of some disorder, it is just because of my personality that does not tolerate change or interference.
I wonder who came up with all these little demeaning behavioral names giving nonsense. And to make it worse, it seems to me my family is totally into these so-called little disorders. A while back, my daughter was reading something online, and suddenly, she goes: Dad, I know what is wrong with mom! Naturally I look up, I did not know that there is something wrong with me. My husband puts his book down and looks at our daughter, and without hesitation, she starts reading this bizarre description. He nods and makes the appropriate sounds of approval. I want to scream “Hello, I am here too”. But I am obviously not audible and not one takes note of me. I am sure this is what a one cell organism feels like when it is trapped in a petri dish or stuck under a microscope lens.
And so, I was diagnosed, again. Only, this time by a 14-year-old and her concurring dad. I’m a specimen in my own home. I guess that means that my home is my petri dish. Obsessive compulsive disorder and another condition that has an even worse name, just because people breathing to close to me irritate me, and hearing someone chew drives me nuts, and just because my husband’s snoring drives me nuts, and the way people drive and ignore rules makes me angry and so on and on I can go. Does that really mean I have some condition? I think I am just an angry type person, who likes things to be done correctly and for people to follow rules, be considerate when eating and breathing and sleeping. IS that really reason to diagnose me with some disorder? To be honest, I was told many years ago by a professional that I suffer from OCD, but come on really? The biggest mistake I ever made was to sarcastically tell my husband what the psychologist’s conclusion was about the frustration I experience, Naturally, I never went back, because I was diagnosed wrongly.
On the flip side… Now, when I say stop breathing so hard, chew softer, sit still etc. I have an excuse for behaving that way. I have a medical disorder. It is out of my control. Sorry guys, sorry family. I was diagnosed with these disorders, remember. It is not my choice to be this way. It is a mental disorder… Medicine? You are kidding right? I am a health freak. I do not take synthetically produced little white pills from plastic bottles. Especially not the kind the pharmacist phones you about to make sure that you know they are addictive, and you cannot just stop taking them, you have to be weaned off them…
Here I am. Happily me. With no worries in the world. Content. Yet, to some parts of society my perfect little pantry and perfectly sorted stuff, and consistent routines and love of round numbers, implies I have a disorder. I am mentally sick by some standard and I could get better according to that standard if I would only pop that little pill that would numb me and make me happy with disorder….