How I got to know my OCD...

Every autumn, right around my birthday, my family and I would go to Holland, my moms home. I always got so very excited when we would go to Holland to go visit my grandparents, my godfather. The bikes, the water, the ocean, the fries, the rain and mist, the cheese, it is all such a big part of my life!
we always went with the train, mostly an overnight train. And even with the heat rising during the night, I got oh so excited to get some train breakfast the next morning while looking out of the window observing how the landscape turned into fields of cows upon waterpuddles and sheep.

When I was in my early teens, instead of going to stay with my moms parents, we decided to go to one of the islands in the north, called vlieland. There are various islands in the coastal area of germany and holland, this one might be one of the more famous ones. Life on this island seemed to be very nice, quite and harmonious. People drove around in bikes and there was only a few cars in the main port area. The town was small and full of exciting little shops with souvenirs and tipical dutch stuff. I remember how I got hooked up at one shop and ended up buying these seal souvenirs. I have no idea why I bought them, I never had any special relationship to seals. But I guess it is part of what I actually want to tell you in this story, except from also advising you to go check out that island of course.

But anyhow, let's keep going. We rented a little house in the middle of the island, a 5 minute walk from the ocean. We had all a bike, my little sister would sit on the back of my dads bike. He got all excited because there was Cranberries growing all over the island, so half of the time we were picking Cranberries. He got so excited so he bought us a gallon of muffins, only to use the plastic container to bring more Cranberries home. His jam though was delicious and I wish I didn't bitch that much about what he taught me and made me work.
My mom - whenever we went to Holland - had her ups and downs. She often struggled with her family. Being on an island I think was good for her.

It was in this fantastic holidays, between Cranberries, Pancakes and the Ocean I'd go swim every day with my two brothers, that something really strange happened with me. I felt it coming some time before, but I never gave it too much attention. I thought it might just be the fact, that I was about 12 or 13 - just riding on a rollercoaster of hormones.
I remember that night very well. It was about midnight, everybody was sleeping. But I for some reason couldn't fall asleep and feeling so alone as the only one being awake felt strange. I went to the toilet and observed the light tower. He was far away, on the very edge of the island, shining his light into the dark - around and around in circles. I watched, how our house got brighter, then darker again, brighter, then darker again. As I watched this tower, a very unfamiliar feeling arose. I felt sad for the tower. I got scared, that he might be scared, so alone in the dark, shining into the darkness, all on his one. What if a big wave hits him?

And as I was thinking this and I didn't realize it in that very moment, I felt an overwhelming compassion for the tower. I felt sorry for him being there alone and I was thinking about going out there and visiting him, just to let him know that he is not alone. But it was too far away. So instead of going out there, I just watched him turn his light around and around. Three times, five times, then 5 more times, another 3 times. Over and over I watched him turn endlessly and realized that I must have been staring at him for some minutes, hoping that me sending attention towards him makes him feel less alone. So I kept watching some more.

But as I got tired and wanted to go back to bed, I couldn't. My thoughts ran in circles, just like the tower: what, if he doesn't like if I go to bed now? What if he'd be happy if I look just three more rounds? What if he got mad and would make something bad happen to me if I wouldn't keep watching the perfect amount of rounds? What if something happened to my family if I would go to bed to early?

I got scared. I didn't know an answer to these questions. How could I. But the mere idea of a possibility, that if I wouldn't watch the perfect amount of rounds something bad might happen, got me scared and thus trapped. I stood there, nervous, anxious, watching the tower turn. So in order to take a desicion, I said, ok, three more rounds and that's it. He must be happy with that. So I watched three more. But as you might already guess, doubts were instantly there, saying: well maybe he just tricked you to believe it was perfect with watching three more rounds, but actually he wanted you to watch 5 more. So I watched some more. Three rounds, five rounds, three again, five again. three times three rounds, three times five rounds. five times three rounds, five times five rounds. I ended up in an endless loop of packages of three's and five's - I got caught in fractals.

Eventually though, I came back to "reason", watched final three or five rounds and went to bed, happy to go to sleep and forget about this rather strange happening.

Little did I know. This night was the beginning of a change in my life that still somehow scares me a little bit. Nowadays, I know they call this OCD. By that time I didn't know this and just thought I might be crazy...

I woke up the next morning with my older brother checking out the his sceletons of rabbits he found and took home with him - filling the train with a odeur of rotten meat. My younger brother was probably playing with his stuffed animals, what we so often did. Or maybe he teased my ten years younger sister. It seemed a normal morning, my dad sitting at the table with a coffee, my mom in the kitchen I guess. I was the last one to get out of bed and got all excited about the day. My grandmom and godfather would come and visit. I completely forgot about the incident and enjoyed the bike ride, the hot chocolate with tons of sugar and the best whipped cream there is (they sweeten it quite a bit in the Netherlands).

But as the night came and we all went to bed, I felt this similar feeling crawling back into consciousness. I remember that I started to get anxious as my brothers were brushing their teeth, because I knew, when we all are sleeping, the tower is out there, shining all alone into the night, turning his endless rounds, over and over. And when I went to bed, I felt the urge to go to the toilet and check on the tower. So I did. And again I watched him turn and turn. I can't remember for how long I watched, but it must have been some minutes, maybe ten. I just remember how I started to sweat and get really anxious, because there was so many possibilities to stop watching, so many ways to fuck this up, so many ideas crossed my mind of what could happen.

But eventually, I could turn around and go to bed. But as I turned, I saw the four chairs in the living room. I thought: well shit, I am sure they are lonely and sad or something, standing out here in the cold night, in the dark. So I went over and said good night to every dingle one of them, while striking them with both my hands.

This is how I remember my OCD started.

I was super glad to leave the island. No more tower watching while everybody else is in bed already. No more standing there in the dark four minutes and minutes. No more triple touching every chair in every combination possible, because you know, some chair might get offended that he is always the last one to be touched, which of course added time to my nightly "good night world" routine. Intervalls of touching chairs and watching the tower, combination of three rounds tower, three rounds chairs, three rounds chairs and then three rounds tower, then five, the nthe opposite way aka five times tower then five times chairs, then the whole thing opposite, thus 3 times chairs, 3 times tower, 5 times chairs, 5 times towers. You see, it was always about equalizing it all out. But then of course, one night I asked, well what about my left and right hand, my left and right eye? So three times left eye the tower, three times left hand the chairs, three times right eye the tower, three times right hand the chairs,... you get the picture. Are you feeling slightly overwhelmed?
I for sure was and everytime I could finally go to bed in peace, half an hour or more I spent touching and watching objects in the night. But it didn't stop me from getting less anxious. No, quite the opposite happened.

The second night after this routine started, I felt very ashamed. I started to see my whole family different. I couldn't tell anyone, because it was such akward behaviour I thought. I mean, how fucked up is it - me standing in the dark going through numbers while touching chairs in various patterns over and over?! I felt alone, I felt strange. I really didn't like this feeling and I really didn't like the fact of being out in the dark for so long, alone, with my routines getting bigger and more complicated over time. I just wished someone would come and safe me. My dad or mom actually once came out of their room and saw me standing there. I think it was my mom. She said: what are you doing, son? - Just waching the tower. - Well, go to bed, yeah? - mhm I said, went to bed and right back out again, restarting the routines.

I got afraid that my brothers would think I was behaving strange, so I'd go and flush the toilet in order to make them think I had to pee. But I wasn't thinking that it might have been strange that I wouldn't return for half an hour after the flush. If the would have paid attention, they probably thought I must fall asleep everytime I pee. And so it went on, going to the toilet, doing routine, going to bed anxious, going to the toilet again, doing the routine again. What if I have to do the whole routine three times? Yeah, you didn't see that one coming did you? But it was true... unfortunately.

We left after two weeks and I was happy. No more tower, no more chairs. Done. Good bye weird stuff, hello school and friends and girls and home home again!

I bought some more seals and brought them back home to Switzerland. I think my crush at the time might have liked seals. So I took my bag, the seals, some shells and sand, twelve pounds of Cranberries and a full catalogue of good and somewhat unpleasent memories from the island back home.

But little did I know...

Thank you for reading. I will post a next chapter to this my personal experiences with OCD, so stay tuned!

Pictures: Netherlands and Switzerland

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