I have a most radical and crazy imagination sometimes. I don’t know if it’s because of my seasonal OCD and ADD or whether it is because of some kind of forgotten trauma in the past (drama queen).
How do I describe this nonsensical fear? Well, I guess I can through singular examples. Let’s see…
I once had a large TV in my old dorm. I used to watch soap operas on it after work, as I was having my dinner. It was a routine activity. After a while, I got bored of the soap opera (most Indonesian soap operas are so cliché sometimes, I don’t even know why I bother, LOL). I resorted to watching stuff on the internet from my laptop. So the TV was neglected. Dust covered it for many months. After a while, I wanted to watch it again but I was scared to turn it on. Why? I thought that the dust had coated the hardware beyond compare. I thought that it would get to the wiring and block the smooth flow of electrical current. Then the hardware would get hot and it would explode. So I never turned it on, not until my friend decided to turn it on. I was anxious all the while it was on and couldn’t wait to turn off.
I thought of the same result when my laptop had its first fit. I have written about it in my previous post. I thought that the internal hardware would get hot with the noise and then my laptop would explode.
You know what I fear most from the explosion? The object would break into a million pieces in the explosion and the sharp pieces would come flying at me and shoot into my eyes, stab my eardrums, and pierce my skin. Then I would bleed to death (honestly, I don’t know why I torture myself with such a horrific scenario).
The same fear applies to many other cases. If I watch the TV for too long I am afraid it would get too hot and explode. If I leave the computer on standby for too many nights in a row I am afraid it would get too hot and explode. If I talk on the phone for too long I am afraid it would get too hot and explode.
My friends say that I am crazy and unreasonable. If it were to happen, there would be very little probability. However, I dote on that probability like a prick. i don’t know when I’ll get over it. I wonder if it’s some kind of phobia, like my mom’s fear of kittens, my sister’s fear of grown cats, my little brother’s fear of cockroaches, my dad’s fear of eating a chicken’s neck (that is weird). However, my fear seems so systematic compared to theirs which are solely based on the fear of the object for no special reason. I’m starting to think I’m psychotic. LOL.
I have other anxieties too, if not fears. I always blow everything before I use it. I blow my spoon before I use it to eat then I wipe it with a tissue. I always blow on my food before I eat it, even if it isn’t hot. I even blow on my tissue before I use it to blow my nose. Why? Because I don’t like dust. I don’t like germs. I don’t like dirt. Somehow, my brain is making me believe that I can banish them by blowing on everything before I use it. It’s already a habit and sometimes I don’t even realize that I do it until my friend looks at me as if I were an alien and asks me what the heck am I doing.
I am one of the most consumptive users of tissue and tissue products. I need tissues, mostly to wipe everything (yes, I also wipe my utensils before I use it. I also wipe the table with it before I eat at public places. You never know.). I can never feel comfortable eating something or using something if it isn’t clean. I don’t like handkerchiefs because you have to use them over and over again even before you wash them. Or you would just have to use the side A side B theory. That doesn’t assure that the germs or dirt haven’t switched sides before I used them, right?
Yes, maybe I am insane. Maybe I really do have OCD apart from my hypothetically strewn ADD. However, my habits give me comfort and I haven’t seen any detrimental effects from them just yet. So I won’t seek for any treatment or therapy. I don’t need it yet.
Or maybe it’s just my imagination.
Oh, well. Let the imagination run wild!