I'm not OCD, I'm CDO !

'Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries I would give no man a reason on compulsion, I!'
-William Shakespeare.

I often get accused of being obsessive and compulsive. Unhealthily so.

Maybe it’s because I have to turn all the notes in my wallet to face the same way, so that the number is always at the top right corner.

Maybe it’s because I have my kitchen utensils hanging in a specific order, and I get distressed if I reach for something and it isn’t where it should be.

Maybe it’s because when I am following a recipe I have to measure everything exactly. To the gram. To the millilitre.

Maybe it’s because I say things like ‘six minutes past five’, and ‘seven point two miles’ rather than simply ‘five past five’ or ‘just over seven miles’.

Maybe it’s because if someone asks me something and I don’t know the answer, I will be unable to focus on anything else until I have consulted a book or a reliable website to find the answer.

Maybe it’s because I am far more critical of my own photography and writing than anyone else. I reject things that other people insist are worthy.

Maybe it’s because of all of the above, and many more examples that my friends and family would take great pleasure in pointing out. They often accuse me of being OCD. I tell them that I’m not OCD, I’m CDO.

It’s like OCD, but the letters are in alphabetical order. Like they should be.

I don’t know when it started. I don’t remember ever not being like this. Surely when I was 4 years old, I didn’t arrange my Lego in size-order. I’ll need to ask my mum about that.

It isn’t just me though. There are others.

My aunt, my mum’s sister, is famously compulsive in a similar way. If you read this Aunty Neen, don’t deny it. You know it’s true.

My daughter is showing the signs as well, so maybe it’s genetic. She does arrange the Lego by size-order. She places things in nice straight lines. I once discovered her rearranging some coins that her big brother had thrown on their gran’s living room floor, placing them on the points where the lines of the pattern on the rug crossed.

Should I worry about her?

Of course not.

Obsession and compulsion are useful. As long as you channel it properly. If you become one of those unfortunates who have to flip the light switch seven times when you enter the room, or can’t stand on the cracks on the pavement, then you are indeed mentally ill. But only separated from those people by a (very) thin line, are those of us who are obsessive and compulsive, but have learned to do something useful with our urges rather than be hampered by them.

My family may mock when I turn up to take charge of a large family dinner and I have a laminated sheet with my ‘battle plan’ on it (precise timings of what has to be done in what order, so that everything comes together at the same time). They may laugh at my obsessive behaviour, but they don’t complain when they are sitting at the table enjoying the meal.

To be organised saves time and effort. To know where everything should be, and to always place it there, is simple efficiency. If you obsess, you will never give up, you will never be deterred by unfortunate circumstances or setbacks; you will pursue your goal no matter what forces oppose you. You will be capable of achieving great things. All you have to do is stay on the right side of the line; don’t let it become a crutch, make it become an opportunity.

There are doubtless times when I really infuriate my friends and family. They shake their heads, puzzled. They don’t understand why I have to stay up late at night when normal people are sleeping, because ‘I have to finish this chapter’, or ‘I need to finish writing this right now’. We may be in a hurry to get somewhere, but if I lift money from an ATM, it can’t go into my wallet until the notes are facing the right way.

I don’t know if I’d be able to change. I wouldn’t want to anyway. Obsession and compulsion are as much a part of ‘me’ as are size 11 feet and red hair. You have more chance of halting the ebb and flow of the Atlantic tide than you have of making me behave any differently.

I’m obsessive about being obsessive. I like life this way.