March 20, 2005
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People who know me have noticed that I can be quite the obsessive
compulsive. Some of my friends call me “Mr.Clean” because of an
incident when I insisted that they used a coaster for their drink in my
room. They would also say “speck of dust, speck of dust” teasing me
about how I want things clean. They also call me “Monica,” since that’s
the name of the obsessive compulsive character from Friends.
I’m okay with the teasing, but I insist that there’s a difference
between being a neat freak and somebody who likes things organized. I
like things in a certain way, whether it be from cleanliness, from
being put in a certain place, or done in a particular order. I’ve never
really considered myself Obsessive compulsive; maybe a little anal
retentive, but not obsessive.In light of the recent popularity of certain obsessive compulsive characters lately (Monk, Roy Waller in Matchstick Men, Howard Hughes in the Aviator),
I have to finally admit that there is a good chance that I too might be
one. I don’t think that I’m in the same league as the characters I
mentioned, but I have been known to take things farther than they have
to be. I thought it was just paranoia for me to double check if
the garage door is closed, or if I locked the doors of my car, or
whether I put something in a certain place. Maybe it is just
paranoia, but I double check said items multiple times, when it’s
obviously the way it’s suppose to be. It’s like some obsessive
compulsive people who will open and close a door or a cabinet a certain
number of times, before they are satisfied.When I was a lead at work, I was also very particular in the way the
operation was run. It had to be moving in a certain way, and at a
certain time for me to be satisfied. It would just eat at me
sometimes when it’s not. I’m even able to make a chaotic
situation logically organized because of my nature.Obsessive compulsiveness probably has something to do with chemical
imbalances in my body, which means that I probably should be taking
some kind of medicine. But then, I hate going to doctors. Always
with the bad news…. So I’m relegated to just believing that I might
be obsessive compulsive, but not enough for me to take medicine for. I
shall continue observing myself as years goes by.
Comments (2)
It’s funny when I saw the episode of Friends where Rachael cleaned the room and move the foot rest. Everyone was like oh no Monica is going to kill you. That totally reminded me of you. This one time I was looking at something in your room and knowing that you liked things a certain way, I tried to put it back exactly as I found it. When I finished arranging the object to the best of my ability (which I thought was pretty close to the original state) I would sit back and watch you jump into action. You would wait a few seconds just to keep it “breezy” or maybe your tying to pretend that it doesn’t bother you, but anyways you would usually move it a fraction of an inch this way or that. I think it just has to do with the sense of security derived from the tactile sensation of touching the object, making sure it’s safe and not broken or something like that. Haha this other time I was just pushing all sorts of buttons on a remote or something you snatched out right out of my hand. Hahaha
yeah, you’re just destructive aren’t you? =P