I have borderline OCD along with being bipolar. You would think I would have a spotless house, desk, car etc., right?
Not the case . . . at all.
My OCD involves smelling my hands. And it involves my socks. Not smelling my socks.
We’ll cover the socks first. I can’t stand to have dirty or wet socks on. Dirty socks consist of any time my socks touch the floors of somewhere other than my home. Or, they are dirty if I remove them . . . such as for a massage. I can’t put those same socks back on because they are dirty. When I’m stressed, or my anxiety is high, I tend to change my socks more often . . . even when they haven’t gotten ‘dirty”. I just feel better when I change my socks. On bad days, I might change my socks a dozen times. On a good day I average about 3 pairs. And, the care of the socks is another issue. They must be washed in hot water with bleach. If my clean socks don’t smell like bleach, I won’t put them on. As a result, I typically own 30 or more pairs of white socks at any one time.
The other issue of smelling my hands is odd . . . even I have to say it. Often times, when I touch something with a weird texture (or especially if I don’t like the texture) I feel the urge to smell my hand.
Now, I have spoken with a medical professional about these things. And, it was determined that, as long as it didn’t interfere with my daily life, I had the choice as to whether or not I wanted to take meds for it. I opted to not medicate at that time.
So, there it is. My freakishness is out in the open. And I’m ok with it.
Peace, Love & Coping Mechanisms
Hoosier Barn Chick