Checking OCD and harm obsessions—again

Here’s another example of checking OCD and the harm obsessions that drive it:

It couldn’t have gone far. I had heard it lightly thump the carpet when it hit the floor. Yet, I couldn’t find it.

I was looking for my ring. On my way to the bedroom to put it in the jewelry box before I washed dishes, I was pulling it off my finger as I walked through the living room. That’s when I dropped it and it hit the floor.

That’s why I was crawling around on all fours, running my hands over the carpet, searching for my ring by sight and touch.

I finally found my ring.

I also found two small pieces of dried grass or a part of a weed. And a few pieces of lint.

I couldn’t help but laugh at myself as I sat there on the floor. Just that day I had vowed to “stop looking down so much.”

It seems like whenever I look down at the carpet or floor, I see such things: pieces of grass or a pine needle from outside, dragged in on a shoe, or pieces of lint from blankets or clothes.

Sometimes I’m able to overlook such finds. But lately it’s harder for me not to pick up every piece of foreign matter I see—or think I see. Sometimes I pull up only carpet fibers when I reach for what I think is a piece of lint.



Is the white spot in the middle a piece of lint or a part of the carpet? Turned out it was part of the carpet.



Last year I wrote a post called OCD: Picking up sticks, where I described my old rituals of checking for harmful objects outdoors.

What I’m doing now is only at home and only inside.

But the obsession is the same: I’m afraid that harm is going to come to another. I’m afraid, in this case, that I’m going to leave something on the floor that one of the cats will eat and be harmed by it.

Vacuuming cuts down on the amount of lint and other debris on the floor, of course, but something is always left behind. And it might be harmful. Or so goes my thinking.

I never seem to be “all done” with checking OCD. I get rid of one ritual, only to have another take its place.

It’s frustrating, but it’s part of having OCD. I have to continue taking on the rituals as they come. I can’t give up because one ritual is particularly difficult to deal with.

I could pick up stuff all day long. But I have other things to do with my time and energy, as we all do.

And I no longer want to be captive to this checking ritual.

So I am trying to stop looking down so much. I’m trying to keep my feet moving and my eyes facing forward as much as possible (I don’t want to fall on my face!).

And if I do see something that I want to pick up, I’m trying to avoid reaching down and checking it.

I’m not always successful. But with practice, I hope to get rid of this checking ritual.

Do you ever want to be “all done” with self-improvement? How do you keep up your motivation to become a better person?

OCD: Picking up sticks

It seems like a stick looking straight down, but at an angle, it looks like a nail. When I nudge it with my foot, it rolls a little, but I still can’t tell.

People are coming. I turn and walk in the direction of my original destination, the student services building.

But it might be a nail. Somebody might step on it and get hurt. It would be my fault.

I turn around again, and I walk back the 10 feet. People are passing by.

I lean forward, put my head down and move it around, like I’m looking over the ground below. Maybe they’ll think I’m just looking for something I dropped.

After they pass, I touch the stick/nail again with my shoe. I can’t tell.

I pick it up. It’s a stick. But it’s a hard stick. I can’t break it. Maybe it’s not a stick.

I place it at the edge of the sidewalk, right where the concrete meets the grass, out of the way of walkers.

I take up my journey again.

But someone could still step on it. And it might not be a stick.

I go back and pick up the stick. Maybe if people see me do it, they’ll think it’s something I dropped.

I carry it with me into student services, into the bathroom. I throw it into the trashcan. Then I wash my hands.

That’s a small illustration of one of my harm obsessions. It was strongest when I was in graduate school.

When I walked on the street or on campus or through a parking lot, I checked for things on the ground that could harm someone.



At one point in my life, a walk along here could cause me a lot of anxiety.



I don’t remember ever finding any nails. But I found lots of sticks and rocks that could potentially be harmful. Or so I thought.

Walking somewhere was never a quick trip or a straight journey from A to B when this OCD symptom was at its peak.

I had to check every stick I saw, every little rock and anything that looked like it could be harmful.

I had to stop and examine it. I had to pick up a lot of things to figure out what they were. And sometimes that wasn’t enough.

This harm obsession was sometimes at odds with my contamination obsession. If I picked up a stick or an unknown object, I was contaminating my hands. But I had to pick it up in order to keep other people safe.

That was what it was all about. Keeping other people safe. It was my responsibility.

So harm trumped contamination long enough for me to get to a sink to wash my hands.

When I started taking medication for my OCD and depression, some of my symptoms got a lot better. The picking-up-sticks was one of those.

My eyes are still drawn to potentially harmful objects on the ground, in the driveway, in the parking lot. But now I have a new tool. I can call the obsession for what it is—OCD—and walk on, refocus.

Have you experienced a checking or harm obsession like this?