I love to spend Christmas with my mom and sister, but going back to my mom’s house is difficult. In my mind everything in it is contaminated. 
The funny thing is that I’m pretty comfortable being in the house. Since everything is contaminated past the point of no return I can just sort of go with it. There’s no possible way to clean everything there so I just kind of embrace the filth. But before I leave to come back to my own house every item I bring back has to be carefully cleaned, clothes have to be washed in just the right way and I have the most thorough shower possible. Then from the moment I step out of the shower I can’t touch anything other than my “clean” items until I’m back outside in my car. My mom even has to hold doors open for me as I make my escape!
It’s been three years since I lived there but the association with that house as being dirty is still incredibly strong. And it’s not like my own house is immaculate. There’s no logic to it. My mom sent me something in the mail a year ago and I’ve given up my mailbox as being contaminated because something from that house was inside. I can’t open mail without washing my hands now. I had to leave many of my Christmas presents behind because they’re too tough to clean the right way. OCD—the real Grinch!
On the other hand, that can be convenient excuse to leave certain Christmas presents behind… “Wow… brown corduroy pants? Thanks mom… too bad I can’t take them with me. You know, OCD and all that.” 
Oh boy… Well, that’s what it’s like when I go home for the holidays. Anybody else have an association like this? 

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