By Danielle Silverstein of Where the Eff Is My Handbook?
I am a hardcore sufferer of OCD. I have spent much of my life in therapy, learning how to deal with it. I’ve also spent endless hours checking stoves, door locks, and the on/off switch on coffee makers. Let’s just say I’m not an amateur.
I once drove all the way home when I reached a destination, almost two hours away, just so I could confirm that my curling iron was turned off, even though I had taken a picture of it being off so I could look at it and reassure myself on my car ride. It’s too bad that OCD is not a competitive activity, because my varsity jacket would be well-earned.
I might be one of the few people who has not an ounce of embarrassment about my situation. Everyone knows I suffer from it, and I don’t tone it down for anyone because it’s just part of who I am.
In fact, even my children know I suffer from it. Mommy takes her pills at night so her mind doesn’t spin in circles and can operate in more of a wavy line. Considering at least one of my three children will most likely inherit my gifted nature for repetition (fingers crossed it’s my son who already spends half of his day counting), here are a few things I’m doing to prepare them for life in the slow lane where we never get anywhere because we’re too busy being stuck in the moment:
1) In the morning, when my kids take their gummy vitamins, they also practice swallowing an M&M without chewing. One of the big perks of being a sufferer of OCD in the modern age is that thankfully, there is medicine for it. And unfortunately there is no OCD medication in the gummy form. This way, whenever the disorder might strike, they’ll be ahead of the game and ready to swallow those meds.
2) I have a very strict checking policy in our house. It’s important that children don’t suddenly experience an extreme change in lifestyle whenever it’s possible; instead, I ease them into a situation. “Checking and rechecking” is pretty much the MVP of OCD. They check all their homework answers twice. I check to make sure their teeth are brushed well, and if they need to brush more, I check again.
The children are in charge of making sure their outfits are picked out for school, backpacks ready to go, and lunches are in the fridge the night before school. This way, if and when the illness starts to manifest, they’ll be so used to checking, it won’t feel like such a shocking change in their agenda.
3) I remind them most situations are outside of their control. Games such as “If I don’t make this basket I won’t do well in school” and “If this bottle doesn’t flip right side up the first time I won’t get that bike I want for Christmas” are great ways to prepare for the inexplicable mind-fuck that OCD inevitably causes no matter what situation you’re in.
When my son is shooting hoops, I like to add an element of danger for him, because that’s what the brain does when you’re an OCD sufferer. Almost every moment is contorted into a life or death situation, and it’s all in your hands. If I don’t make my kids think now that if they don’t get an A on that spelling test, someone halfway across the world could die, then they won’t truly be prepared for a life ridden with anxiety.
4) It’s impossible to truly be a contender for the OCD limelight if you don’t thoroughly and properly wash your hands. From the moment they wake up, my children scrub their hands multiple times, because one never knows what contamination they have encountered in the the past five minutes. Every moment presents different germs that could potentially lead to a vast array of illnesses. Hand washing should never be an activity that lasts fewer than 60 seconds. This is a well-known fact among the germaphobe community.
5) We always give ourselves plenty of time to get to a destination. Because it’s extremely challenging to get ready to go somewhere when you need to figure out how to get your clothing out of the drawers without touching said drawers (because door handles are the leading cause of illness-spreading bacteria).
I wake my kids up two hours early every morning. While presently they just sit and watch TV and relax, if they should ever be stricken with the urge to avoid handles, latches, hangers, or actual clothing, they’ll be used to getting up ahead of time and have plenty of time to MacGyver their way into an outfit.
Is my preparedness for an OCD disaster over the top and extreme? Maybe. But think of all the individuals who load their basements with canned goods in case of an oncoming apocalypse or zombie invasion. OCD is kind of like that, only far worse and much more of a possible reality.
I was a girl scout, and I wore that brown uniform (mine was more of a dark yellow due to some over-bleaching in an attempt to ensure it was sterile) with pride when we spoke about being prepared. If nothing else, my kids will be the best fucking OCD sufferers in the United States. And that’s something in which I will definitely take tremendous pride.
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About the Author
Danielle Silverstein is a SAHM to three kids and two rescue dogs. While she admits she’s just one bad decision away from being the mom version of Lindsay Lohan, she’s really just doing her best to raise kind, empathetic kids. Her blog, wheretheeffismyhandbook.com, focuses on helping women get through this journey of motherhood with some extra humor and support. You can find more from her on Facebook, IG @wheretheeffismyhandbook, and Twitter @effinghandbook.