Philippians 4:8 “Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.
I have done the weirdest things under the obsession-compulsion-umbrella. Like when I was fifteen years old, after retiring for the day, I would not let myself go to sleep until I had won seven different solitaire games. There were many nights I would only get an hour or two of sleep. A few times, I actually won them all within 30 minutes and I’d say to myself, “Well, that was way too easy, and unfulfilling, I need to do this all over again.”
These days, if I’m not careful, I will be sucked into certain computer games. Four hours will seem like five minutes. So I will either give myself a time limit (if I can hold to that), or avoid playing - and best yet – don’t even try it out – even if everyone is saying, “This is the best game ever.”
It probably begins as a way to escape, but then it becomes the trap. After finding the coping method that works, I will eventually gain control over that area of my life, so I can continue feeling and acting like a normal person. Naturally, most of the OCD vortexes have been complete time wasters – time which I will never get back. I can only think of a few that have had any benefits. Like developing a spreadsheet to learn four different languages at once. (Ah, I’m still working on that one. It’s one of my life-projects. I guess that one is just too beneficial.)
These OCD tendencies probably began in grade seven with the messy-school-note-syndrome. Instead of “studying”, I would rewrite. It served as a great review, especially for the first page or so, because I’d start over, and over, and over... No matter how hard I tried, I could not write neatly. And as my hand got tired, the handwriting would become messier much sooner each time, like – the first sentence. Oops, start over!
By the time I got to college, I had developed my own shorthand, and developed the talent of taking notes in my sleep – these I would rewrite later in my “neater” shorthand while I could still remember what we had just learned. Even my “neat” notes were only legible to myself, which actually served me well.
Kids who skipped class would ask to borrow notes – which you would never ever see ever again. When you’d ask for them back and they’d only hand you some kind of lie – this would develop into a fight and they’d hate you forever. And if you’d say “no” – they’d hate you forever. It’s no-win-situation. So when they’d make their way over to me, I could show them my notes and say, “Sure, but you probably can’t read this.” LOL! They’d just grunt and move on. Of course if laptops would have existed back then, this may have changed a lot of things. Although, chances are I might have dropped it as I attempted to type notes in my sleep!
Monday, February 1, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)