Every time I think that I've finally got this OCD thing stuffed back down inside, another Monday rolls around to prove me wrong. My compulsions haven't gone away completely but I've got it down to one that's on pretty much full time that I can completely hide from the world. If it means I have to deal with that all the time or go back on medication, I'll just deal with it. As compulsions go it's fairly inane.
No, I won't be discussing what it is. I'm already self conscious enough about it.
So Monday rolls around and suddenly I'm "on" again. I feel like some kind of tweaker has taken over my brain and I'm all twitchy and jumpy and start freaking out about labels being on straight (gotta do it seventeen times just to make sure it's "right") or the imaginary dust on my desk or whatever. I have to brush the imaginary specks off my paper until it's "right". I have to breathe a certain number of times in a certain number of steps. I can't have anyone else's "air" in my lungs when I pass them in the hall. I'm just north of being completely out of control. My body tightens up, my breathing gets shallow, and my head feels claustrophobic. The claustrophobia gets tighter and tighter until all these dumb things are "right".
All of this usually subsides by lunchtime, thankfully. But it's
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