OCD: Contamination: Food, wasting

It’s finally come to me removing food under the pretense that I will eat it when that is not my real intention.

Why has it come to this, you ask?

(Sadly, these stories will involve meat; if you can’t stomach the thought of people eating meat, please don’t read on. There’s a reason I’m not vegan right now but I won’t go into it yet.) I believe it started with some amazingly-cooked turkey legs that were wrapped in foil and placed in the refrigerator on a night I did not eat at home. There were quite a few legs.

  1. Many legs in fridge
  2. I wasn’t home when they were made and served
  3. I barely touch anything in a fridge to begin with; I certainly won’t touch food that appeared without my having been present
  4. Perhaps 3 or 4 days into their existence in the fridge, it was suggested to me that I eat them
  5. I took 2 with me to work and did eat them for the rest of the week, in spite of them being already past my 3-day-old comfort zone. I was anxious but zapped them in the microwave for a long time, and ate them. (i.e. My anxiety of letting down the cook was higher than my anxiety of intestinal issues.)
  6. There were still more legs in the fridge
  7. 1.5 weeks into it, they were offered to me, and I declined
  8. Same for the next day
  9. And the next day
  10. And I’m sweating bullets trying so hard not to offend the cook but there’s no chance I’m consuming these any more! (How does one politely decline food when it is now being pushed at you with a fair bit of momentum?)
  11. Somewhere after they were 2 weeks old, maybe 2.5 weeks old, they finally disappeared. Of course I feel horrible, but also relieved.

Only, there is a lot more food in the fridge where that came from. I’m learning the patterns. There will not be cooked food in the fridge for periods of time. Then the food shows up in high quantities when it shows up. I cannot consume it all within the 3 days. I wish that I could freeze things so I could spread it out better but there is not enough freezer space.

This is so tragic to me, and so wrong, but I finally broke down and took a bag of ribs with me to work, but not to eat. I’d had a couple of them the night before, and got sick later (probably unrelated). The ribs were already past 3 days old then. So I took a baggy with me to work with the intention to place them in the compost bin. >_< It is so horrible and removes the possibility that someone else at the house would eat them, but I just cannot face the inquisition as to why I won’t touch a food that’s in the fridge. There are still tons more ribs in the fridge and nobody is eating them and they get older every day and I’m still expected to eat them.

There are a couple more items that I will be gradually taking with me to work, for the purpose of disposal. I wish this were not the case. I don’t know what else to do.

Maybe I could purchase a small freezer and sneak it into my room without them noticing it… and without them noticing the additional electricity on their bill…

OCD: Living by the Rules: Aligning or Centering Certain Things



It’s one of my last OCD topics! ⭐️ I think I have just a handful left to write about after this one.

This is a “small” one but has been sooooooooooooo-oooooooooooooooooooo-ooooooooooooooooooo incredibly annoying over the years. I’m not going to preface this, I’ll just pick one at random and start.

Pens: OMG pens. I used to have these particular pens I “had” to use when writing in a certain journal. That whole ritual isn’t my point; my point is that the pens had a single line of text on them, and the cap had to be removed for use. So to place the cap back on once done using the pen, I had to line up the cap’s pocket-clip-thingy with the line of text on the pen. Perfectly. It could take me 20 minutes, every moment of which I hated. But the anxiety was too high to leave it even slightly not-centered. Of course, you also had to hold it from various angles and make sure it’s really, perfectly as even as possible. Very tough.

Now? I buy pens that either don’t have any markings on the body, or are click-pens (no caps).

Window openers: These are the windows that open by cranking a small lever around and around. Well upon opening and closing, the lever of course has to be perfectly vertical. This can take an enormous amount of time, as well, sometimes meaning that you have to change how far the window is open in order to align the lever.

Sink faucet handles: Turn-knobs are fine because you have to twist them to the point where water stops dripping. There’s no choice. But the type with a single handle that must be lowered in order to stop the water is annoying. They have to be perfectly centered, too, even if you’re in a hurry. And even if you just finished centering it a minute ago between washing your hands and brushing your teeth or whatever. Annoying.

Now: As with all of this type, I don’t let myself touch item if someone else closed it and left it imperfect. All the better. But if I’m the one closing it, it still has to be centered. Someday, I’d like to break this one. It’s sooooooooo annoying and time-consuming and doesn’t accomplish anything. I’m sure if I did it enough times and nobody close to me got sick or died, I could probably keep going with it. But it’s hard to get started because of the risk of someone getting sick and dying, you know? Anyway, it won’t be today. I’ve got a loved one traveling.

Random Additions:

  • I once had to center my drinking glass perfectly within a counter tile any time I set my glass down. But I don’t have to do that anymore.
  • Tupperware lids, typically have to line up the lids to face the same way as the words on the bottom, but not always.
  • Front-facing: Always must face forward any bottles, cans, etc. (this is praised in pharmacy work, at least 😉 )
  • Obnoxious caps: Caps that have a tab or something that can be aligned with the main body labels. Sometimes I can ignore them, but not always.

Poem: This Is Irony.

Feel this burn.
Wait for self control
But none will come.
Feel the coolness trickle down my arm.
Close your eyes.
Just let me rest here for a while.
Feel my heart exploding
Feel my blood begin to boil over.

There’s the rage that I claimed I never feel
There’s the pain that I hold against myself.
There’s the blame that is knifed into my skin
Don’t trust me. I will never be okay. I will never be capable.

The prize had better have been worth it.
No more lies, let me see into the bottom.
End these tries, I’m not putting out any more effort.

What the hell is THIS?
This isn’t what I bargained for.
There’s nothing here but compulsions and no self control.

That’s not a life. That isn’t worth its weight on my back.
When did I learn these awful habits?
When did I learn these shitty thoughts?
When did I learn to close my eyes?
When did I learn to turn away?
When did I learn that following a compulsion was okay?

There was a time when I was not.
There was a time when I had self-respect.
There was a time when I could set my mind to something and achieve it.

Fuck. You.
innerdragon. You have a lot to learn.


Break Time! (Break#003)

The following 3 comics are by XKCD. You can click each comic to go to their site. It’s worth it. 🙂

I literally used to walk as if I were a knight chess piece — typically 2 forward, 1 to the side. Literally.

Yes, please.


Really cute video of a golden retriever failing a recall command in an adorable way:

Fantastic link I want to study when I have more time:

A great news ‘article’, “Health Experts Recommend Standing Up At Desk, Leaving Office, Never Coming Back”:

A great moment in ‘history’ — Venus gets its first bronze plaque… haha “Venus Added To Registry Of Historically Significant Planets”

An odd, grammatically-correct sentence “Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo”:

Action: Go to the Google search engine. Type in “Do a barrel roll”. Watch what happens.

OCD: Mental Contamination and Associations to People/Places/Things (Topic#050)

I didn’t have a clue what to call this one. After doing the barest amount of surfing online, I’ve decided to call it half mental contamination but also half something I made up – associations to people/places/things. It seems similar yet different from the things I’m reading about mental contamination. Maybe you guys will know a better phrase for it.

Wow, it is hard to form my thoughts for this one, because I can’t decide where to begin.

I’m going to use words like “pure” and “unpure” and “tainted”. There

are only two parts of my life for this: Pre-College and Post-College.

Pre-College: From the first day I can remember, I felt “pure” in an indescribable way. I just felt right. Pure. Clean. I was not raised to religion but the Natural world was my church and prayer was daily and there were many things I could do to feel cleansed, much like some religions bathing away sins in holy water, etc. It’s strange to admit this to anyone, and I’m still omitting specifics, but it’s true. I had my own rituals and my own beliefs and I felt special somehow, and important somehow, and clean and like I had a purpose to be here on this planet. I never questioned this and in some ways, I knew EXACTLY who I was. There was something special inside of me.

Post-College: Like I described in my previous post, I returned from my second year of college feeling 100% tainted and no longer supposed to be on this planet. I felt that God[] wanted me dead, that my purpose was done (whether complete or not) and that anyone I came into contact with, physically or mentally, was getting

Post-College Self-Portrait

Post-College Self-Portrait

contaminated by me too. I felt an urgency to be gone from the world (and was extremely suicidal at this point). I was contaminated inside, afraid to pray for others for fear of contaminating them, and afraid to spread this darkness to others.

I was dissociating all the time for up to two years. The first thing that broke through for me was a stuffed animal dog puppet that I’d had as a child. Literally nothing else broke through to me. Nothing. No person, no thing, nothing else. Just this stuffed animal dog puppet. (I think I’ve discussed this separately in a dissociations post somewhere.) I began to connect with the outer world again by having the dog puppet see things and sort of relay them back to me. It’s like, I could see things only through the safety of the dog puppet’s eyes. So I took him everywhere with me (I also carried a plastic bag and toilet paper everywhere with me, because I was having so much trouble with diarrhea, but that’s a different story).

Anyhoo, so the dog puppet. After the dog puppet, came certain people. Only people I had known from childhood. And later, HERE’S WHAT I FOUND MOST INTERESTING, a certain counselor I saw for less than a year. I had an extremely strong positive association to one particular woman from my childhood. THAT woman highly recommended me this one counselor’s name. And THAT COUNSELOR felt okay to me.

So I learned that I could form a positive association via other associations. Does that make sense? A very, very positively(pure)-associated person from my past actually let a stranger feel pure for me as well.

Armed with this knowledge, I used this process to make sure I “connected” with my dog when I got him. I actually arranged a very convoluted trip for the poor puppy to meet me elsewhere in the country when I was on a vacation. He then traveled with me to another location. He even met my maternal grandma at her old home. Altogether, he met at LEAST 5 of my beloved relatives, not including my own parents. I can’t remember if he also met any of my cousins on that journey.

I connected with him 100%. He is pure in every way and has always been the best decision I ever made. He is 100% pure and nothing I can do, think or say can alter that, because he just is. I cannot taint him.

That’s it. I have connected 100% to nobody and nothing since then. Not even my pony, although I connected with her a little bit, during the time my mom used to come out and visit with me and her. But I lost most of my connection with my pony during marriage.

So here I am today. Dissociating? Very rarely. Pure-feeling? Not a chance. But not as tainted-feeling as I was back when it started. I connect fully to nobody I meet. I’m actually losing the feeling of connection to people I know from my past now, like my aunt and uncle, I guess because I’m learning them in a new way now than when I was a child, and the new versions are not associated with me as a child? I know what I’m trying to say, but explaining it in words is a big challenge. Well, hopefully this has explained it at least a little bit.

OCD: Intrusive Thoughts: Harm (Topic#049)

Sand and water

Sand and water

Reason for today’s topic: Within the week, I experienced this quite strongly which reminded me to post about it.

Quick explanation of Harm OCD: (This is how I explained it to a friend earlier): “It’s like, intrusive thoughts you can’t control that cause you much anxiety, and are centered around you somehow causing harm to self or others. But are thoughts opposite of your true nature, which is why they cause so much anxiety.”

Some personal stories:

  • The very first Harm OCD thoughts I remember having were around my middle school years. That’s when I would pick up one of our metal clothes hangers, to hang up a shirt, and would be overwhelmed with images of me bringing the hanger up to my eyes and stabbing them out. I literally couldn’t pick up a hanger without this happening for a while. I had my dad install shelves into my closet instead, although I didn’t mention this as a reason. The only way I knew to get the images to go away back then was to set the hanger back down and breathe and try again later.
  • I’ve had many, many, many of these while driving.
    • I can be driving along totally calmly and cheerfully and suddenly be envisioning myself driving straight at the oncoming traffic. And I had no idea what was stopping me from doing it, if anything. What could possibly hold me back? Every car I successfully passed without driving into, did not reassure me or calm me. It was still a possibility at any second. I would be extremely anxious. What stops my arms from turning the wheel suddenly? I don’t know.
    • Often, I picture that I am going to turn the wheel when going over a bridge or any high point. (Remember, this is very different from being suicidal. It’s kind of the opposite; it’s being afraid of such things.)
  • The thought I had this week was for my beloved dog. At least two years ago, I was shaving some of his mats and hair with an electric razor, which I’ve used for a decade and had gotten comfortable using. Only I somehow managed to get too close to the edge of his ear and it cut him! He yelped, I screamed and cried. Shaking, I did make myself finish so he wouldn’t become afraid of the razor and I wouldn’t either, just much farther away from any possible skin. But that moment sure has stuck with me. In my head, I can loop just the image of cutting him with a razor, over and over again, and the anxiety is like, somehow having the mental image of it in my mind will hurt him. I list this here in Harm OCD because although that was an accident, I have many times had a flash of intentionally injuring an animal in such a way. It’s not the desire to do it, or the impulse, or anything like that. It’s like my mind laughing at me: “Here is your worst nightmare! Ha ha ha ha ha! That’s right, picture yourself intentionally driving this razor into your dog.” It brings up so much anxiety and guilt. When it comes up, I just have to try to distract myself with other things.
  • If such thoughts come up while I am using a razor or scissors to trim up an animal, of course I set the object down and breathe and try to pull up a different topic in my head.
  • In the same exact way, I have, before, worried I would harm another person while I was holding scissors. But it is rare.
  • I get terrible anxiety now if I’m on a plane or someone I love is on a plane. My thoughts, for the briefest of instances, can picture the plane crashing. Of course my heart pounds and I feel horror etc, and I have to think of other thoughts quickly. There is a part of me that feels my thoughts could cause it to happen.
    • The image of it crashing = could cause it to crash
    • If I notice my arms or legs are crossed = could cause it to crash
    • Doing certain activities = could cause it to crash
    • Thinking certain other thoughts = could cause it to crash (especially any religious-type thought, which has to be undone with the opposite thought)
  • I’ve already mentioned one I get around railings and such — that I will climb over them and jump to my death, so I often stay quite far back.
  • I’m glad that I have not yet had the image to jump out as the train approaches, although I often worry that I will get pushed, so I will step back any time I have those thoughts.
  • I don’t know if this counts in this category or not, but at the end of, and right after I returned from, my second year of college (“the first mental breakdown”, as I call it on here), I felt that I had been tainted. I felt that God[] wanted me dead and I wasn’t supposed to be alive any more. I felt that if anyone came near me, I was contaminating them with the darkness. I could not let myself pray for others, or that would taint them. Everything I touched felt tainted by me. (Of course, I had become tainted by the girl I was caretaking, who already knew she was beyond hope herself. [I wonder if the cross she carved into her arm helped her feel less tainted?] It came to me much more slowly and gradually, but by the end, especially after she ‘died’, I was having panic attacks on campus. Everything around me felt dark and tainted and the trees even felt like they hated me and wanted me dead. I couldn’t breathe. So yeah, after I did make it away from there and back Home, I remained “tainted”-feeling for a very long time. I actually still feel somewhat tainted to this day.

And that leads me straight to a new post on a topic I’ve been wanting to write about for a long time! Associations.

Disclaimer: I don’t really experience Harm OCD stuffs very often.

OCD: Contamination: Clothing (Topic#046)

This topic came to mind over the weekend when “Joe” and I were going to sit on my bed to watch some old Star Trek TNG. And I had to first excuse myself to put on a different pair of pants because I won’t wear my “outdoor” jeans on my bed.

This all started in a very easy, straight-forward way: Allergies.

Equine Love

Equine Love

It started in about fifth or sixth grade when I had a pony. My dad was highly allergic to horses and it was the rules that I come home and immediately change, separate out any “horse” contaminated clothing for the laundry and jump in the shower.

As the years progressed, my own allergies to horses became terrible. It was very important for me to keep all “horse” items separate from anything else. I’d break out in a rash if I so much as touched a “contaminated” item.

By high school, my feelings toward “clean” versus “dirty” clothes were quite strong. Even for clothes that were not necessarily “horse” contaminated. Even the floor beneath the dirty clothes pile felt “contaminated”. If the clothes were dirty, they couldn’t so much as bump into “clean” clothes or said “clean” item would have to be washed as well. I remember panicking once because someone had pushed my dirty and clean piles together and the anxiety was too much. I rewashed everything.

At its peak, I would have to change out of my clothes as soon as I would come home from being in the “public”. If I had had to use a sleeve to open a doorknob or anything, I would remember and be careful with that area of clothing until I was able to go home and change. Ditto for my jeans — sitting on a public chair or brushing into a public doorway or anything like that meant being very careful not to touch those parts of my pants until I could go change. Obviously nothing could be re-worn.

I can’t say for sure when/how this relaxed. I know that at some point I had three piles: 1 for absolutely needs washing, 1 for an intermediate status (possibly I could wear something again, as I hadn’t worn it for very long or just around the house or whatever), and totally clean. These 3 piles couldn’t touch at all. Even if I’d only worn a sweater for a couple of hours inside of the house, there’s no WAY I could hang it up in the closet/ let it brush against “clean” clothes.

I’m so relaxed about all of this now-a-days! It’s amazing to consider. Get this:

  • I re-wear clothes now, sometimes even when they are definitely dirty
  • My “dirty” pile and “intermediate” pile are one-and-the-same, for the most part (okay, sometimes my chair becomes piled with “intermediate” clothes)
  • My “dirty” and “clean” clothes can bump and it’s totally fine, no anxiety
  • I do not change out of my clothes after returning home from the “public”
  • I no longer think much about parts of clothing that bumped into “public” things

But, to bed! Clean clothes / pajamas only. I do re-wear pajamas for up to 2 or 3 nights in a row, depending on if I sweat during the night or not (sometimes I wake up drenched in sweat and freezing cold; I don’t know why). Fresh socks only. When I’m re-using pajamas, the nights have to be in a row. If I wear them once, set them on the bed, forget they’re there, wear a different pair the next night, and later find the first pair, forget it. They’re “dirty”.