afterforever
Active member
I need to vent to some people who could potentially understand my frustrations. This rant will probably be very long, so if that's not your cup of tea, by all means hit the back button right now.
It originally started just because I'm a perfectionist and wanted to keep those brand new CDs and DVDs I bought without a scuff or fingerprint, so I'd just wash the oils out of my hands. Then, that wasn't good enough. I started using anti-bacterial soap in these ventures, and, during my hand washing, if I felt as though part of my hand had touched a part of the sink, even if it didn't, I had to repeat the whole process over. Then I realized how filthy the outside world is. I would then wash my hands thoroughly whenever I came in from the outside or touching a doorknob. We own two animals, ditto for whenever I touched them. I started investing in bottles of hand sanitizer, but ultimately I prefer soap because I need the sensation of the filth departing from my hands to do any good. My school marks plummeted back in 11th and 12th grade when I wasn't doing homework because I didn't want to take the books home with me, or even touch them when I was outside of a classroom. When I met my girlfriend, I didn't know what to do, because surely she would reject an obsessive mysophobe like myself. It didn't happen. You know what did happen, though? I can't believe I ever did this, but because all she ever wanted to do was make me happy, she submitted to the demands of my obsessive compulsive tendencies. She wasn't a very healthy girl to begin with, so thrusting something on her that's absolutely going to murder her immune system was absolutely horrible. I hated doing that to her, but I likewise wouldn't let her touch me or come near me if she didn't adhere to the same rules I did. The mysophobia extended beyond the hands to my entire body. If I sat somewhere outside, or even so much as lightly brushed against it, I changed, and if it was severe enough, I showered. Due to the necessity of having to go around the house and do things for myself, like preparing meals or using the washroom, I realized that in order for my hands to survive, I couldn't be washing or sanitizing them constantly. My solution was sterile medical latex gloves. Now I could go outside my room, my "safe place", and do those things. Of course, I wouldn't sit on any household furniture because my parents aren't mysophobes themselves. The only places I will sit inside the house are my computer chair and my bed. I have clothes that I consider "outside clothes" and won't wear them anywhere else, due to my belief that they're contaminated beyond what a run through the washing machine will fix. I refuse to wear t-shirts outside the house, and when I do leave the house, I only wear long sleeve shirts, even in the dead of summer. I have one pair of pants that I haven't worn outside in a very long time, and due to the number of washes it's been through since then, I consider it safe. They're the only pair I wear inside the house. If they're not available, I'll stroll around in my boxers instead. Right now, I'm in college, and it's hellacious. I'm in a IT (computer) program that totally suits my skills and abilities. The problem is, I'm going to a school, a public building, a prime breeding ground for filth and disease. I can only imagine what's crawling around inside the computers and the desks and the chairs and everything inside that school. I cringe touching the keyboards, mice, and repair tools that are given to me. I have to handle wiring that's been on the floor for quite some time. When I come home, I dispose of my clothes in the laundry, and wash my hands furiously with antibacterial soap under hot water for at least 10-15 minutes, or until my hands become wrinkled and dried up, void of anything threatening. I then air dry my hands inside my room (I don't dare use any of the towels for my hands), and proceed to use the sanitizer on them for good measure. Then, I spend half an hour in the shower scrubbing the filth from my skin and all parts of my body. After coming out, drying off with a towel I've designated as clean, and throwing on my clothes, I finally sit down in front of my computer for the night. The whole process takes at least an hour if not more. This is my life folks. I'm not proud of this phobia, I'm quite frankly miserable with it, and it's alienated about 99.9% of any friends I had, and the one I do have left is oftentimes left scratching his head, knowing something is off about me, but never admitting it to him. We're not really that close anyway, so it doesn't matter. I'm genuinely shocked that my girlfriend hasn't given up on me after 3 1/2 years. I've thought about popping the question on our 4th anniversary next year because she means that much to me, but if I'm still this way by then, I won't do it, because I refuse to put anyone through the rigorous routine of having to live with me. I can't get any help until college is done in November, just because of the chunk of my schedule it eats up. This rant doesn't even come close to encompassing what I endure daily, but it's a start.
Please tell me there's someone out there who understands. Some days I just can't cope...
It originally started just because I'm a perfectionist and wanted to keep those brand new CDs and DVDs I bought without a scuff or fingerprint, so I'd just wash the oils out of my hands. Then, that wasn't good enough. I started using anti-bacterial soap in these ventures, and, during my hand washing, if I felt as though part of my hand had touched a part of the sink, even if it didn't, I had to repeat the whole process over. Then I realized how filthy the outside world is. I would then wash my hands thoroughly whenever I came in from the outside or touching a doorknob. We own two animals, ditto for whenever I touched them. I started investing in bottles of hand sanitizer, but ultimately I prefer soap because I need the sensation of the filth departing from my hands to do any good. My school marks plummeted back in 11th and 12th grade when I wasn't doing homework because I didn't want to take the books home with me, or even touch them when I was outside of a classroom. When I met my girlfriend, I didn't know what to do, because surely she would reject an obsessive mysophobe like myself. It didn't happen. You know what did happen, though? I can't believe I ever did this, but because all she ever wanted to do was make me happy, she submitted to the demands of my obsessive compulsive tendencies. She wasn't a very healthy girl to begin with, so thrusting something on her that's absolutely going to murder her immune system was absolutely horrible. I hated doing that to her, but I likewise wouldn't let her touch me or come near me if she didn't adhere to the same rules I did. The mysophobia extended beyond the hands to my entire body. If I sat somewhere outside, or even so much as lightly brushed against it, I changed, and if it was severe enough, I showered. Due to the necessity of having to go around the house and do things for myself, like preparing meals or using the washroom, I realized that in order for my hands to survive, I couldn't be washing or sanitizing them constantly. My solution was sterile medical latex gloves. Now I could go outside my room, my "safe place", and do those things. Of course, I wouldn't sit on any household furniture because my parents aren't mysophobes themselves. The only places I will sit inside the house are my computer chair and my bed. I have clothes that I consider "outside clothes" and won't wear them anywhere else, due to my belief that they're contaminated beyond what a run through the washing machine will fix. I refuse to wear t-shirts outside the house, and when I do leave the house, I only wear long sleeve shirts, even in the dead of summer. I have one pair of pants that I haven't worn outside in a very long time, and due to the number of washes it's been through since then, I consider it safe. They're the only pair I wear inside the house. If they're not available, I'll stroll around in my boxers instead. Right now, I'm in college, and it's hellacious. I'm in a IT (computer) program that totally suits my skills and abilities. The problem is, I'm going to a school, a public building, a prime breeding ground for filth and disease. I can only imagine what's crawling around inside the computers and the desks and the chairs and everything inside that school. I cringe touching the keyboards, mice, and repair tools that are given to me. I have to handle wiring that's been on the floor for quite some time. When I come home, I dispose of my clothes in the laundry, and wash my hands furiously with antibacterial soap under hot water for at least 10-15 minutes, or until my hands become wrinkled and dried up, void of anything threatening. I then air dry my hands inside my room (I don't dare use any of the towels for my hands), and proceed to use the sanitizer on them for good measure. Then, I spend half an hour in the shower scrubbing the filth from my skin and all parts of my body. After coming out, drying off with a towel I've designated as clean, and throwing on my clothes, I finally sit down in front of my computer for the night. The whole process takes at least an hour if not more. This is my life folks. I'm not proud of this phobia, I'm quite frankly miserable with it, and it's alienated about 99.9% of any friends I had, and the one I do have left is oftentimes left scratching his head, knowing something is off about me, but never admitting it to him. We're not really that close anyway, so it doesn't matter. I'm genuinely shocked that my girlfriend hasn't given up on me after 3 1/2 years. I've thought about popping the question on our 4th anniversary next year because she means that much to me, but if I'm still this way by then, I won't do it, because I refuse to put anyone through the rigorous routine of having to live with me. I can't get any help until college is done in November, just because of the chunk of my schedule it eats up. This rant doesn't even come close to encompassing what I endure daily, but it's a start.
Please tell me there's someone out there who understands. Some days I just can't cope...
