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Back to the Forum Archives Recently there has been some stuff on our local news shows about an alleged human dysfunction called obsessive compulsive disorder. It seems this is gradually becoming something of an epidemic. There are more and more cases appearing. In one case they interviewed a guy who is supposed to be afflicted with this problem. They interviewed his head doctor too. The guy seemed pretty normal to me except he used to get upset when things were out of order. His doctor clearly considered this to be a serious dysfunction and he was treating the guy with (what else) drugs. The guy felt he was improving and feeling better because of this treatment. His wife was very happy that his behavior had changed. He was much easier to live with, she said. I must admit, I'm always suspicious of spouses who say things like that. My question is always, easier for who, you or your spouse? And, who thought this guy had a problem in the first place? Was it him or you? As I watched this particular news show, I began to feel a bit uncomfortable about the whole thing. You see, I also get upset when things are out of order. For example, I get very annoyed with people who don't put things back where they found them. Of course, I take the time to do what I think they should have done. I also used to carp at them for what the did, but I stopped doing that. I realized I might as well be talking to a pet rock. Another thing I do is arrange thing symmetrically. For example, if there are two misaligned place mats on a table it bothers me. I will move them to align them with the table and with each other. This penchant for order and symmetry tends to manifest in many of the things I do. For instance, I don't think furniture should be moved. When it is moved for some reason of convenience, I think it should be replace afterward. If I find a door closed and I need to open it, I will be sure to close it when I leave. I have many other habits like that which are related to being orderly and, I think, considerate. Still, I was getting a bit worried. I was wondering if I had a serious problem. Of course, I mean in addition to the ones Mrs. Gaffer routinely points out. One thing I sure don't ever want is to be placed on behavior modification drugs. Even though this guy I saw on TV seemed okay I couldn't be sure. There was no base line for me. I don't know what he was like without the drugs. So, I thought if I did have a problem maybe I'd better handle it myself before the sleeveless jacket guys came for me. The first thing I did was to look up obsessive compulsive disorder in the Microsoft Bookshelf. Here is what I found: Obsessive-compulsive disorder, type of psychological disturbance marked by persistent unwanted patterns of thought coupled with repetitive, ritualistic behavior designed to alleviate discomfort or dread. The individual recognizes the thoughts and rituals as unrealistic or even repugnant, but is still unable to control them, as in the case of a person who has such recurring fears about germs that he must wash his hands excessively throughout the day. Obsessive-compulsive personality disorder is a separate disorder characterized by perfectionism and inflexibility that interfere with a person's ability to finish a task. Well, that first one did not seem like it was describing me. However, the second one had me worried. About being a perfectionist, I do insist on doing things right. I know I have exasperated Mrs. Gaffer a number of times, because of that. It happens quite often when I am building something and she is helping me. Of course, we both want it done right, but I want it done exactly right. Mrs' Gaffer's comment on that is to the point. Damned perfectionist! After reading that description, I decided I had better seek the advice of an expert. I sure did not want to consult the same expert who had put that guy on drugs. Drugs are the very thing I am worried about. I am also completely suspicious of head doctors anyway. I once told Mrs. Gaffer that if I ever got dangerous I would rather have her kill me than to turn me over to those people. She agreed. She said she could never kill me, but she would rather have me go crazy and kill her than to put me in the hands of those people. She was an RN and from personal experience she fears them even more than I do. Fortunately, I have a very good friend who has some expertise in this sort of thing. He is Doctor. B. Haviour. He does counseling and employee relations work for some of our local firms. I gave him a call and he invited me right over. I popped a 12 pac of Grolsh into my cooler and headed for his office. When I got there, the door was open so I walked in. He was sitting behind his huge walnut desk and smiling. "Hey der, Villie. Come ride in," he said.
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