OCD?

I watched a show tonight about someone with OCD, and it of course got me thinking. I mean, I am pretty sure I do have it - not sure how bad - but it’s there.
From an early age I had to do things a certain way and collected things in large amounts: Dalmatians, tuxedo cats, Sylvester, penguins, Sailor Moon, and now black faced sheep.
I organized things obsessively. My drawings were broken down to the completed, the needing to be completed, the ones to do over, and so on. The songs and poems and short stories were the same. Story notes were organized. I saved all the notes I would take in church. All the talks. The lessons. I filed them with folders and labels. Put the files in an order that pleased me.
I get on kicks for a time: I scrapbook, I cut clippings from magazines, I read, I research some topic, I write, I exercise, I organize, I clean, I memorize - - something. I do something obsessively for a time, and then, I move on to a new thing.
I suppose, walking into my room, it looks like controlled chaos. It is. My room has a certain “theme” and items are grouped together in a complimentary way. Pictures balance each other. In between, I toss clothes in a chair, leave papers in stacks, and over fill my bookshelves, so that it resembles a cluttered mess in my room. But things are the way I want them.
I hate disorganized kitchens. I fret over them.
Bees. They buzz. If I hear it, that’s all I hear, and I can’t tune it out. If it’s in the room, I won’t focus on much of anything else until it’s gone.
I febreez things obsessively after I clean.
If I had big enough bookshelves I would have my books alphabetized.
I used to put all thumb tacks into one little jar, and only that jar. Safety pins go in a little fancy pill box. I save buttons from items of clothing in case I need them. I save tags, too, sometimes. I save movie ticket stubs. Concert tickets, too. I saved the confetti from all the Enrique Iglesias concerts I attended. I also collected stuff about him and saved magazine clippings of him.
Before I turn off the car everything must be shut off, i.e. radio, air conditioner, windshield wipers, etc.
My earrings each have a special spot in the jewelry box. My hats are in boxes by color or texture or season.
Speaking of seasons, I obsessively wear seasonal clothing, eat seasonal food, smell seasonal smells and listen to seasonal music. No Christmas music or green velvet any other month, except December. Black and orange is for October. White sundresses for Spring and Summer. Brown summer skirts for late summer. I can’t do it another way, that’s how I have always done things. I think partly why my memory is good, is because I remember things by seasons, which in turn helps me remember them by months.
With all this obsessing you would think I obsess over body images. I don’t. I rather like my body, aside from the poor eyesight and scarring, and my hip, over all, I don’t worry or fret over it the way one might assume. Nor, do I obsess over other people’s. Take guys for instance: he could be insanely gorgeous and I won’t notice, but if he is interesting, I see him for what he is.
If I actually find a guy attractive AND like him for being interesting it’s a rare thing.
The people close to me are people I listen to. In other words, when they talk, I’m not actually thinking of three other things. I often think of all sorts of things during conversations. My brain is in all sorts of places. If I recall the conversation, it means I gave it my full attention, and I’ll probably remember a lot of it.
I can't wash dishes in the same dirty soapy water, each dish must be washed separately and rinsed separately.
I obsessively fluff my pillows, smooth my sheets, and do the same nightly routine before bed. I do the same routine each morning. I race the clock to arrive on time each day.
People. Back to people. I obsess over people from time to time. Not in a creepy way. I worry. I worry so much that I think about how to help them constantly. Worse, is that usually once I do this, I can’t undo it, so it’s there in the back of my mind. I have a list of people. People I want to help.
Once I get an idea in my head, I have to try. I can’t let things go. Sometimes I hold grudges. I notice random things all over the place normal people wouldn’t. My writing might be obsessive, my listening to certain songs constantly could be, my diets, my food kicks, my fact collecting, all of these things I have mentioned could be a sign of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Or I’m crazy.
I know 18 species of penguins. I am full of random sexual facts. Health facts. History facts.
I collect tree species in my head. I name them every time I see them. One day, I will learn all the constellations, flowers, herbs, poisonous plants, and insect names.
I’ll learn many languages. I’ll collect antiques. I want lots of rugs and pillows. One day, I’ll fill a house with art, fabrics, and things I collect while traveling.