Gentle Reader, you already know about my post-it obsession–I bought more post-its just the other day, in fact–but you may not know that I am equally obsessed with pens and notebooks. It’s particularly poignant for me to write in a notebook now that I’ve had my carpal tunnel surgery on my left hand (as I am left-handed). Writing by hand has gotten so much easier, and now, I have notebooks upon notebooks to fill.
My Passion Planner arrives on Tuesday, and I can’t wait to fill it with the post-its and pens I bought specifically for it. I’m looking forward to organizing–another one of my obsessions, deep organization–and to-do-listing my way to happiness.
But the darker side of my obsessions is that I am clinically diagnosed with OCD: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. And I say this, not as the cute, “Oh, I like to organize. I’m so OCD!” but OCD in fact. I am treated for this, and it’s gotten better, but it’s hard to open up about it. There’s such a stigma on mental health these days that to admit mental health is to admit failure. And as an overachiever, admitting “failure” is difficult for me.
But how else are we going to make it better unless we talk about it?
So I tell you, on this public space, about my disorder.
The Postmodern Bluestocking 