Cooking with OCD

One of my biggest fears is contamination.  Whether its from germs, bacteria, virus... whatever. I LOVE to cook.  It's pretty much my only hobby besides reading.  But sometimes its really hard.  I've quit cooking for most others except my family.  I love to have parties and get togethers but I won't do a lot of cooking from scratch even if I would like to.  Whenever there's a work or school event I just buy something pre-made at the store or donate money towards food.

I've learned that as much as I love to cook, cooking for people outside my family, and even sometimes for my own family, can cause major panic attacks.  What if I don't cook the meat long enough and we all get sick?  What if some raw meat juice drips out of the package, gets on the counter, then touches a plate or spoon and my children eat off it and get sick or worse? 

Yes, I know how this sounds.  Logically, I know its crazy to worry, worry, worry.  I've never given us food poisoning before so I'm not sure why this is such a big fear. Even with the medication I take, its still hard to do something that I love.  I can feel the panic rising up, it just doesn't seem to get as bad as it did before or the attacks don't last quite as long now that I have a medication that works.

I was excited to make my barbecue meatloaf today.  I don't really have a recipe anymore and I wanted to play around with it anyways to see if I can make it better.  Just opening the package of meat and cracking open an egg are enough to increase my heart rate.  As I was mixing the meatloaf together by hand, my 3 year old asked if she could help.  I don't think I could handle letting her put her hands in raw egg and meat.  It would end up with a completely scrubbed down kitchen, a bath for the little one and probably a shower for me.  As it is, I wiped down the counter and stove really well and the floor right in front of where I was working, just in case anything spilled.
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I love to cook.  My kids love to help me cook.  I will continue to try new recipes and teach my kids how to cook.  I refuse to let the OCD rule my life, but sometimes its a struggle.

But if the meatloaf turns out really good, I'll be sure to post the recipe. :)

Attack of the Band-Aids

From the beginning of what I would consider my existence with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, one thing has always been able to induce a panic attack in me.  And that thing is the thought of stepping on or touching someone's used band-aid. 

I have laser sharp vision when it comes to spotting a band-aid lying on the ground and have actually pushed my husband out of the way of danger when he was about to step on one.  This always ends up with my husband looking at me like I'm crazy, but whatever.  Little does he realize what possible awful germs could have been lurking on that band-aid.

So I was excited recently when I feel like I had my first victory over my fear of band-aids.  I went grocery shopping and when I got out of my car and walked around it to go into the store, low and behold, a band-aid was on the ground behind the trunk of my car.  Eeeek!

So I told myself not to worry, don't let it get to me.  I would just make sure I stepped around it when I loaded the groceries in my car.  But I actually forgot about the band-aid.  I loaded the car, returned the cart and saw the band-aid on the ground as I was heading back to my car.  I could feel my heart rate increase and tried to tell myself to calm down, I probably didn't even step on it.  Maybe.  The cart was probably over the band-aid so I wouldn't have been able to...right?  Right?!  Whew... that was a close one.

The only compulsion that I let myself have was to drag my feet in the grass when I arrived home before I entered the house.  I didn't use disinfecting wipes on the bottoms of my shoes.  I didn't get undressed right away and wash my feet before putting clean pants on.  In fact, I almost forgot all about it until I  sat down at the computer and curled my legs up under me and for a second thought...  eeeww, my feet probably have band-aid germs on them.  But I didn't do anything about it.

And one day when I hear about someone contracting some weird disease that can be traced back to a random band-aid on the ground, I will be ready with a big Fat I TOLD YOU SO.  But until then, I'll try to keep dealing with my OCD symptoms and not giving in to the thoughts that try to control me.

OCD, Panic Attacks and Anxiety

I've debated for a while about writing about this.  It's not something I tell most people but it is a big part of my life and something I struggle with every day.  I tried to have a separate blog about Obsessive Compulsive Disorder but couldn't keep up with 2 blogs.  I know it helped me when I first realized what I was dealing with to read about other people with OCD.  It helped me feel like I couldn't be too crazy to hear about others struggling with some of the same issues.  It gave me hope to read about how people have learned to deal with obsessions and compulsions and to lead regular lives.  I realize now that I started to notice signs of OCD when I was 18 even though at the time I didn't know that's what it was.  Twelve years later, I've learned to manage my OCD with medication and calming techniques.  I'm not always successful and there have been times when my anxiety has definitely controlled me.

When I first started to exhibit signs of OCD,  I didn't know what it was.  I just knew that when I was walking, I was worried about stepping on a band aid, a condom (you'd be surprised how many of these are lying around in parking lots and in the grass), or any other random thing on the ground that could spread germs.  I would constantly watch the ground as I walked to make sure I didn't step on anything.  This was a lot of work as one of my favorite past times at the time was to go for really long walks. If I thought I stepped too close to something I would retrace my steps.  Sometimes multiple times.


I started doing other weird things at the time as well.  I was afraid that whenever I hit a bump while driving, I'd accidentally hit a person and I would have to drive around the block to make sure someone wasn't lying dead in the road.


If I touched something "dirty", I could still feel it on my skin even after washing my hands multiple times.  I would have to check the doors and windows 4 or 5 times to make sure they were locked and the oven to make sure it was off before I could go to bed. 


It didn't all happen at once.  It started out slowly.  I started thinking about how if I touch something with my shoe.  Then the germs could then be transferred to the bottom of my pants.  So if I touched my pants I would be contaminated.

My obsessions have evolved over time, I've been able to learn ways to cope with some so that the urge to act out a compulsion isn't as strong or I don't have to spend as long to get over it.   It just seems like there are always new worries and compulsions to add to the list.


I didn't even realize it was OCD until my husband (boyfriend at the time) was talking to a nurse at work and she told him that she thought I had OCD.  Even then it didn't really sink in.  I couldn't have OCD.  I'm just a germaphobe.  It took a while for me to accept what I was really going through.