Hi. My name is Brittany Mays. I have OCD.

Hi. My name is Brittany Mays and I have OCD.

I'm not talking about your regular 'ol, "Oh. Ha ha. I'm OCD too. I like for everything to have it's place." Oh no. I'm talking about the real deal.

I'm talking about the kind of OCD where I constantly add numbers in my head. Yea. It started in elementary school and I can't stop now. When I see a group of numbers like on a mailbox or license plate, I have to add them all together. (If I don't give in right away, my brain consistently repeats the numbers over and over until I finally give in.) I add them. Then I have to take the about of letters in that number. For example, 7 has 5.And I count down. The number 5 has 4. And 4 has 4 has 4 has 4. It is kind of sad really.

I'm talking about the kind of OCD where I can't wear different jewelry because my hands will never allow me to reach for and wear something different.

The kind of OCD where - if something like a drink is in my head - I compulsively sip on it  weather I'm thirsty or not. (That one is somewhat beneficial however.)

The kind of OCD where every time I leave a group of friends, family, a meeting of some kind, etc. My mind repeates the events of the night over and over making sure I didn't do anything wrong. I've gotten to the point where I make facial expressions as I do it. And S knows what is going on at.

The kind of OCD where everything must be budgeted TO. THE. PENNY. (My Husband watched me compulsively counting and section out the money, and he said he felt bad for leaving me with the job of budgetting. But I can't NOT have control of it.)

The kind of OCD where my child has to ask me before we leave the house if I checked the oven, lights, thermostat, doors, and dog kennel. I say yes, and I STILL end up turning around a mile down the road to come back and check. Just one more time. I get this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. My mind races. And I know if I don't go home and check for a 3rd time, (Because I also got out and checked before we pulled away in the car.) I won't be able to focus while I am away.

The kind of OCD where you have to find justifications for things like, "I have 4 blue towels." We have 7 brown apiece - one for each day of the week. But someone gave me 4 nice blue towels....I had to throw one out because it didn't make sense to have 4. Three made more sense. One nice, fluffy towel apiece.

The kind of OCD that not only causes you to want things nice and neat. But that makes you feel anxious if they are not. Where you see every dog hair. Every imperfection in the paint. Every remote control that is not sitting straight on the table. I consistently go around each room in my head. Making sure they are just how I want them. I find the older S gets, the harder it is to keep the house spotless. Sometimes, when I can control my anxiety, I find a little bit of satisfaction in the fact that the house isn't perfect. It makes me feel like we lived a little. It makes me feel-good. I WILL defeat this. I have to defeat this. Because...

At times, it can be a miserable existence. Really. It can be. It is all that stands in the way of me having the life I dream of having. But I don't know anything else. I remember as child, I wrote down on the back of a picture, when and where the picture was taken. Who was in it. And who took it ...thousands of pictures and labeling later, I couldn't take it anymore. I decided to go digital so I could escape the horrible, time consuming labeling. But I still have to sort and label them each in a distinct folder. I have over 2,000 subfolders on my computer - just for pictures.

I remember how I could sense when  something in my bedroom had been touched. My parents thought it was funny to mess with me and see if I noticed.

And now, even still, I know. I am truly one of those Mom's who knows all. If the ham in the refrigerator has been touched. I remember how much was on each jar of food, each package, how many cans of greenbeans were in the cabinet. I know when a light is on that shouldn't be. I know when a pillow or blanket has been touched. I can smell everything and hear everything. (But don't ask me to see.) My senses are super heightened amd I'm sensitive to every little sound, touch, or smell. I'm actually so sensitive that my emotions are sensitive. Just seeing somebody cry makes me ball my eyes out.

Some days I wish I didn't feel as much as I do. Or hear as much as I do. Or even smell as much as I do. Some days I wish I had the ability to have a dirty house. I wish my child could have toys that were missing parts. I wish I didn't have to bag up each piece-type in different zip locks for every board game we own. I wish I could own more than one set of dishes. I wish I didn't follow my Husband and hang over his shoulder while he brushed his teeth and got ready every morning just so I could wipe up the water on the counter. (He is such a good sport about my problems.) I wish I could put away laundry out of alphabetical and color order. I Wish I could JUST. LIVE.

Hi. My name is Brittany Mays. I have OCD and it MUST be defeated.