Organized Chaos - Volume 9
Crazy Test: Are You a Glass of Orange Juice?
by Michelle G.
Hi, my name is Michelle. I’m 17 years old and a senior in high school. I’m in the National Honors Society and in the top 15% of my class. I have a boyfriend and a best friend whom I love to spend time with, so I guess you could call me a social butterfly. I have all the classic characteristics of what is defined as “normal,” but believe me I am far from it. I have OCD.
For is long as I can remember I have had certain little habits that I just thought were normal, and I thought everyone had them. For example, I was and still am obsessed with counting, mostly in 3’s. For some odd reason I have a big obsession with the number 3. Also I have a big phobia of people throwing up and of germs, yet I feel that I need to touch everything and anything. I have so many rituals that I lost count. They take over my life so much that I spend half my day doing my rituals. I also hate when people eat, chew gum, burp, or do anything that is dealing with the mouth. It’s so odd, yet I can’t help myself. I just feel upset when I see those things.
Well anyway, up until last year while working on a project in health on different illnesses and disorders, I had no idea what OCD really was, let alone that I had it. My group picked OCD because our favorite TV show is “Monk.” After finding a related quiz on a health website, I took it for the fun of it. When I read the results, it all clicked. I had OCD.
That year at my yearly checkup, I just blurted it out, “I think I have OCD.” I had no idea what would come of it. Before I knew it, my mom was calling doctor after doctor trying to get me help. You think that it would be easy to find someone to talk to and to help you through your battles, but either insurance will not cover one doctor or another doctor is “booked to capacity.” This went on for about a month. Finally we got an appointment, but the only problem is it was a month and a half away. Let me tell you, that was a long month.
The big day came! I thought, “This is the day I will be cured.” Hah, was I wrong. First of all, I felt like a total wacko. What teenager goes to a shrink for help with some crazy disorder like OCD? I just freaked out from there, all the way to the office. Finally when I got there, it wasn’t so bad. He was very nice, but I still felt weird and embarrassed. That’s when I shut myself up. I didn’t let anyone in or let anything out. I put on a happy face, but really inside I was as unhappy as can be.
Up until then, my freak-out sessions were mostly in my head, with maybe a few tears tacked on. Then, one Saturday night a breakdown happened that would change me forever. While on a night out with my two sisters, we went to dinner, shopping, then to the movies. The movie was brand new, so the theater was packed. After 20 minutes into the movie, I just got so panicky, and I couldn’t help myself. I sat there, with a blank stare. The moment the movie ended I ran to the car and broke into tears. My sisters, not knowing what was happening, raced home. I ran right up into my room and didn’t come out for more than a day.
This is when everything in my world felt like it came crashing down on top of me. I didn’t want to eat or talk to anyone; I just wanted to lie around the house and do nothing. It got the point where school became an issue because I couldn’t go. I had to be put on homebound instruction, which was horrible. It felt like everything that could go wrong did, and everything that was great suddenly wasn’t. I was in the darkest time in my life. I didn’t think I’d ever be better. Then my doctor said a few little words that really set me in a tizzy: “I think it is time to try medication.”
Yes, I have to admit as much as I hate medicine and being on drugs, I was quite excited. Maybe it will make me better and bring me back to the person I was before. I couldn’t wait until we went to the new drug doctor. I was counting down my days, but this time we got an appointment within a week.
I was so excited to get to the doctor's; I was like a little kid again: “Mom is it time yet? Mom how much longer? Mom, can we leave yet?!?!” So, we pulled up to this big building that kind of looked like an apartment house. Then the doorman (yes, there was a doorman!) let us in, and we had to memorize a code, walk down this weird hallway and punch the code into a box. Then some voice yells, “Yes, can I help you? Yes? Hello?” Quickly answering him we opened the door and went down this freaking, small, dark hallway. My excitement was slowly slipping away. Finally we found the door and I felt that I had stepped back in time.
I walked into the place, took one step, and realized I was on the other side of the office. It was so tiny. Not only that, but it had pictures, old freaky pictures, from floor to ceiling. There wasn’t any, I mean any, free room on the walls. Also, the chairs looked like they were from 1962. They were black leather with high backs and weird legs and arms. When you went to sit down you fell in because they were so worn out. My mom’s chair even had a piece of wood so you wouldn’t fall through. Let me tell you, this wasn’t the best first impression.
There were about six other people in the room, and within 15 minutes they were all seen. It is like the doctor was only being used as a drug dispenser. It was so odd. Finally it was my turn. I went in there with his “nurse” and sat down. Then she showed me pictures and had me tell her how they made me feel and what they are of. Hello, I have OCD, I doubt I should have to do this. Then she gave me a worksheet with the weirdest questions on it and had me answer true or false. They were the oddest questions; for example, one was: What runs faster a duck or a fish? That went on for about 20 minutes then I went in to see the doctor.
First of all, I have a thing with clutter, I really hate it. I can’t stand to be in a messy room, or I might just freak out. It’s not the greatest feeling in the world. So guess what the doctor’s office was like? THE BIGGEST MESS I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE! There were books and stacks beyond stacks of paper from floor to about five feet up. Much to my dismay, he had me lay down on a dirty old “doctor bed”. Then I couldn’t even see him because the stacks blocked my view. This was a huge set-back.
As soon as we got to the car I broke out in tears. (No, I don’t have a thing for crying in cars, it just happens a lot. Sorry!) My parents told me I’d never have to go back again. Thank goodness. But that one-hour experience set me back further then I imagined.
To make a long story short, we finally found a doctor. Let me just say, he was worth the wait. He had a long meeting with me and my parents and then got down to business with the medicine. After hit and miss with a few drugs, Zoloft finally did the trick. I also got some instant relief medicine and some sleeping medicine. Oh my gosh, I felt like the world had finally come around again. I was happy for the first time in a long time. But then the world just went and passed me by. Wonderful!
It turned out that I kind of hit a plateau. My medicine first had a strong effect, and then it just leveled out. It was like a train slamming on its brakes suddenly, and let me tell you, it wasn’t pretty. So, we went back to my “Medicine Doctor,” and he said the stupidest but best thing. When I said, “I feel like I’m crazy and I’m embarrassed by it,” he said, “Want to take a quiz?” Before I could answer, he shouted out, “Are you a glass of orange juice?” This made me realize there is no such thing as crazy or normal. I am who I am, and I’m a girl with OCD. There is nothing seriously wrong with me; I’m just a little bit…special.
It’s been about six months since my “dark time,” and let me tell you, I couldn’t be better. My life is full of surprises due to my OCD, but I grew to love them. I learned how to deal with my OCD and use it to my advantage. OCD has its benefits too, but most people overlook them. You need to learn to love your quirks like I did. For the most part I was back to my better self. Not only that, but because of the experience I went through, I developed a better outlook on life. Within the few months of hardship, I grew more mature and more patient then I have ever been. I mean, I do still have my meltdowns but so do most people every now and then. And also, let me tell you, I am not a glass of orange juice.
