My little 'problem' ..

That is what I called my OCD before I even knew there was a term for it. Keep in mind, I was only in grade 5 at this point. I remember being at school and having to perform my 'rituals' before I could go home at the end of the day. I remember I would be at school so late because I had to retrace my steps of the entire day almost before I could go home. And toucing things! Oh my god, having to touch things a certain amount of times.. talk about time consuming! I can't remember what my number was back then, but I know I have always been very keen on even numbers. I want to say 16 was the number, but when my 'problem' got really bad it was almost endless multiples of 16 until I finally made myself sick enough that I was satisfied enough to let myself go home.

Up to this point, I hadn't told anyone of my 'problem', as I called it. I honestly didn't even know what was wrong with me and I thought I was the only one in the entire world like me. I remember crying myself to sleep at night asking God, why.. why me?? Am I the only one like this? Nobody would ever understand me. I remember watching other kids in school and seeing if they had some of the same tendencies that I did. Hoping, praying that I was not alone. I was alone.

Grade 7.. the first time I had ever told anyone about 'my problem'. I remember it was late one night and me and two of my best, closest girlfriends were out one night confessing all our problems in life, crying, telling each other all our secrets. That was when I finally told someone what was wrong with my. I didn't know how to describe it and I honestly don't think they really understood me properly. I didn't understand me properly. Man, it sure felt good to get it out though. I think it was around this time that I had watched a movie with my family called ''As Good As It Gets''.. now I finally knew I wasn't alone. The geniuses that made this movie, I thank you. I finally knew there were other people in the world like me, and that there was a chance I could get better.. or was there? Even the slightest bit of hope made me feel good inside. It was also after this movie that my parents mentioned something about how I couldn't touch door knobs. I could only touch them with my sleeve. This of course was to avoid having to touch the doorknob sixteen times before going to the bathroom, I would never make it. I quickly denied their claims saying it was because of germs or something. I wish now that I would have told them everything back than. It may have made my life way easier.. I like to think anyway.