They
transcended every aspect of my life.
Counting was big for me. When I set
my alarm at night, I had to set it to
a number that wouldn't add up to a "bad"
number. If my sister was 33 and I was
24, I couldn't leave the TV on Channel
33 or 24. I would wash my hair three
times as opposed to once because three
was a good luck number and one wasn't.
It took me longer to read because I'd
count the lines in a paragraph. If I
was writing a term paper, I couldn't
have a certain number of words on a
line if it added up to a bad number.
I
was always worried that if I didn't
do something, my parents were going
to die. Or I would worry about harming
my parents, which was completely irrational.
I couldn't wear anything that said Boston
because my parents were from Boston.
I couldn't write the word "death" because
I was worried that something bad would
happen.
Getting
dressed in the morning was tough because
I had a routine, and if I deviated from
that routine, I'd have to get dressed
again. I knew the rituals didn't make
sense, but I couldn't seem to overcome
them until I had therapy.
