It’s not a OCD in the truest sense, but then I have a mild of
it’s one…
I don’t wash my hands a thousand times a day. I don’t
constantly check for locked doors or light switches. I
do not obsessively clean my room. Unfortunately, I have a kind of compulsion
which really isn't good for much of anything. I am a counter. Yes, that’s
right, a counter. I count my steps from point A to point B wherever that may
be. I count objects in my house if I feel there is a need. I count endless
times the leaves in my cheque-book. At times I have no idea what in fact, I'm
counting but nevertheless, I do. I know there are exactly 506 ceramic
flooring tiles in my house. I know there are exactly 56 books placed not so
neatly, on my bookshelves. I know there are exactly 52 staircase steps from road to
my desk at work. There are 57 electricity pole in the distance I go to jog on. It
is these random acts of counting that are simply part of my world, everyday.
I did not know until today, when I looked it up in
Wikipedia, that this actually bears an official name. Arithmomania. It sounds
like a fancy term that would make me excel in the study of mathematics.
However, that couldn't be farther from the truth. It is this very act of
counting that hinders sometime my sleep. It is not the only culprit of my
insomnia because as I have previously expressed, my brain just never shuts
down. It is simply another puzzle piece to my sleep deprivation. This is truly
where my pleasant experience ends. When a “normal” and I use the term loosely,
person cannot sleep, they clear their minds or go to their happy place and
inevitably, sleep will come. Well, not for me. I have even resorted to counting
sheep. One would think that my lunacy would actually benefit me in this
instance. Wrong again. This is where my over-active, never shutting down, never
shutting up brain comes in. I cannot not count the sheep because to
me, that would be crazy. However my brain takes it one step further
and wanders to other sheep associated thoughts. Such as….why does one even
count sheep? It’s not the counting part that stumps me but the sheep part. I
mean why not dogs, or cats or my favourite, the penguins.
I am unsure of when this compulsion began. I cannot recall
it from my childhood so I am left to assume I developed it as an adult. It
wasn't as if I woke up one day and decided it was time to count everything
around me. It’s just been there. It has never really bothered me before and I
am not totally convinced that it bothers me now. However, there are many
questions that subdue their answers from me every now and then. Does it mean I
have finally gone crazy? Do I just have an affinity for numbers? Will it stunt
my personal growth? Will it hold me back in any way? I truly do not know. I
suppose my real question of the day is this: am I doomed to live a life of
seemingly random, useless counting practices or is there a cure for me? Maybe,
as I say all the time: it is what it is. Maybe there is no rhyme or reason to
it all. Maybe there doesn’t have to be. Maybe there is no harm in it at all. Or
maybe, just maybe I am perfectly sane, simply counting my way through this
insane world.
Now that I have accepted this as part to me, here is who I
idealized now J
One, Two, Three, Four, Five…..
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