OCD: General Discussion Thread
in Psychology & Therapy ·
Cleaning is something that weighs heavily on my mind lately. I don't necessarily think I'm ill, because I feel like I can still maintain control over everything... I simply love having things pristine, and I find myself constantly wiping surfaces down, though it’s not as if I’m doing a deep scrub of everything every single day. It’s more that if I’ve just finished mopping the hardwood floors and then spot a tiny little speck this evening, I’ll grab a wet wipe and clean it immediately. Sometimes I just can't stand it, even when I tell myself—look, in half an hour you're just going to see another spot, everything is already spotless, just let it go... I manage to resist quite often, but then I end up tossing and turning in bed at night... though I try to stay disciplined and not give in. Then again, there are moments where I tell myself—go ahead, you lunatic, if it makes you happy, just keep scrubbing until you're exhausted. So, I fluctuate between being kind to myself and being quite harsh, and that's just how it is. It isn't that I'm obsessing over it all day long, but whenever I have a big cleaning session planned, I find myself waking up incredibly early, sometimes around five or six in the morning, because I just can't wait until I get home from work in the afternoon to start... It doesn't feel too difficult, though, because I've become quite efficient; I can get my 650-square-foot apartment looking absolutely perfect in about an hour, and that includes scrubbing the tub, vacuuming, airing out the rugs, and everything else. The rugs are the only real struggle. For instance, if I vacuum a rug, I feel compelled to take it outside onto the balcony and shake it out so that I can properly wipe the entire floor surface... I can't just vacuum and then mop around it, because that thought just gnaws at me. But I don't think it's such a catastrophe since I only have those thin cotton rugs that are easy to shake out, and honestly, it feels necessary. Still, I worry that this might consume me completely; I feel like I'm right on the edge of this becoming a real problem. Reading some of the posts here has made me a little anxious. This morning, my husband came home from his night shift, and of course, his feet were smelling... he took off his socks and threw them straight into the washing machine for me to handle, but instead of hopping right into the shower, he walked through the living room, grabbed a glass of water, and went about his business. I was still lying in bed, and I knew exactly that he had been walking barefoot through the house before washing up, and I felt this sudden surge of fury... my thoughts were racing—don't say anything, just wipe a little bit and be done with it—but I couldn't help myself and ended up snapping at him for being so inconsiderate. I had spent all yesterday morning cleaning everything perfectly, and since today is Sunday, we aren't supposed to be cleaning (an old habit from my family home), yet there he was, walking around barefoot with smelly feet, and I just spiraled thinking about how the whole apartment would smell now... despite everything being clean, I felt forced to act. It’s been a difficult day, even though I feel better now that everything is spotless, and now I'll just spend a little time browsing the forum, cook lunch, and that's about it.