A few days ago I was getting ready for bed and hanging some of my clothes in the wardrobe. My current state of mind means I don’t dump my clothes on the floor anymore and I carefully put them away in drawers or throw them into the wash. I do this because it means that I know where they are and I dont have the pre-conceived turmoil of having to find them the next day. My obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) also ensures I don’t do that as I can’t stand anything on the floor because picking them up means I have another little task that needs doing .
As I was hanging up my trousers up 50 cents fell out of the pocket and onto the floor, it landed by the leg on a set of drawers. As my mind was concentrating on putting my clothes away I didn’t pick the 50 cents up and I left it there. I was in my routine now and my next task was to have a shower so I left the 50 cents on the ground and went off to wash my anatomy with a bar of Johnson’s baby soap. I returned to my bedroom in my blue brush cotton pyjamas…that could of done with a wash…and concentrated on my next task which was to pop my citalopram and sleeping tablet. As I walked into the room I looked down at the floor and said to myself “I must pick that 50 cents up”. I was all consumed with taking my tablets so left it there and went to the kitchen and swilled my tablets back with the fluoride enriched drinking water. I then sat down in the lounge and tried to look interested while my wife pummeled me with repeat episodes of the Housewives of Beverley Hills…..throat-slitting stuff if ever there was….not good words to choose in my current state of mind !!! I amused myself for a while on my Ipad Air and then strolled off to bed.
I walked into my bedroom and as I switched the light off I looked down at that 50 cents on the floor…it was still there but I was going to bed…..I can only do one thing at a time…”I’ll pick it up in the morning”. The morning came….mornings have never been a good time for me as the thought processes operate a lot slower and any decision-making is about as hard as squeezing blood out of a stone. As I rolled over and looked towards the set of drawers I saw that 50 cent piece still sitting there. The queen was smirking at me as if to say…I’m going to send you over the edge.!!!!
I got out of bed…got changed and made the bed…..I’m a domestic goddess really, except when it comes to picking up 50 cent pieces. I left it there and every time I walked into my bedroom I looked down at that 50 cents and said to myself “I must pick that 50 cents up”. As the day wore on I got angrier with myself as for whatever reason I did not stop for one second and pick it up. It became a challenge and I started to ask myself questions…if I bend down and pick the 50 cents up, what will I do with it….where will I put it. If I put it down will it annoy me sitting in a different place, can I spend it, what can I buy for 50 cents….it was bloody ludicrous.
This pathetic behaviour continued for 2 more days until I couldn’t bare it any longer. It was making me more psychotic than I already was and I was on the brink of losing my temper. Eventually I got so mad with myself that I stopped myself, took a deep breath and bent down and picked the 50 cents up. I placed it into pocket of the blue faded jeans that I was wearing.
Later that night I was getting undressed and began hanging up my jeans….guess what….the 50 cents fell out and onto the floor. I yelled out an expletive “For f…k sake”…I bent down and picked up the 50 cents and placed it into a jar full of coins I kept in the hallway cupboard. When it fell to the bottom of the jar I became filled with endorphins and a real sense of satisfaction came over me…..the psyciatrist must be right….I must be crazy!!!!!
Dont ask me why I put myself through that painstaking process, I only told the story to give you some idea of how I think when my brain is sapped of common sense. The moral of my story is…..
When you have depression, procrastination will do your head in….do the little things first and don’t let 50 cents threaten your sanity.
Categories: My Recovery