I've made no real secret of my borderline OCD (completely self-diagnosed, I might add). I've referenced it here many a time, in many a post.
I am not the guy who washes his hands over and over and over and over and over and....oh sorry. Now where was I?
Oh yeah - I do other things that would constitute my behaviour as being abbey-normal. These are nothing I am thinking I will reveal here, but you never know. Perhaps one day.
Denton knows of them, but to be honest, it was about a decade and a half before I fessed up about them - even to him. And then a few months ago I told one of the physicians who works for me. Oddly enough - not one of the neurologists or neuro-psych docs I used to work with, who deal with OCD on a daily basis.
No, this is one of my docs at my new job (new! ha! I've been there almost a year - can you believe it?). She is kind of a pain in the ass, but I like her a lot and she seemed to draw this out of me somehow and now she won't let it drop - though she makes sure to only tease me about it without letting on to anyone else about 'my little problem'.
For the holidays she told me she was going to get me an 'action figure' she found. It turns out she didn't, because she thought she wasn't sure how I'd react. For the record - I would have loved it. And I told her so.
But as I was purchasing other holiday gifts at Big Fun, I came across the
I don't need a surgical mask or a moist towelette for my OCD. Mine manifests itself in ways other than hygiene. My knees might be as robotic as his - or at least my right femur. .....and my crotch isn't that smooth - THANK YOU!And what is with that hideous monochromatic outfit?
Song by: Hole
2 comments:
Oh come on, you're going to make us GUESS?
I'm thinking there's a skin tag somewhere you can't stop picking. Or you're a step counter. You LOOK like a step counter.
lol, rebecca...
c'mon, blobby-- fess up!
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