To start off, I’d just like to say that as far as I know, I have no psychological disorders or problems… however, I’ve never really been tested for any, but I have a number of behaviors I can list right off the bat that could constitute some minor issues in the world of psychiatry.
- all teevees, radios, and other sound-emitting devices have to be adjusted so that their volume ends in a 3, 5, 7, or 0 (i.e. 10, 13, 15, 17, or 20)
- I can be as messy as I want to be in terms of orgnanization and room-straightening, however I would never use my fingers to eat ribs.
- I do linger around little bottles of Germ-X from time to time.
- I keep a napkin on my drink at dinner, especially if I have milk.
- I am disgusted if I lick the tops of pudding, yogurt, or applesauce cups, however, if someone else does it, I’m like “That’s cool, yo.”
- I eat one food group at a time.
- If it’s anywhere near 12:51 on a clock, I usually keep glancing at it until it hits.
And I guess that’s the extent of my issues, really, but at times I can be pretty awkward or strange. If I’m watching teevee and the volume’s on something like 56 or so (quite probably the worst of all volumes!) then I’m getting up to adjust it. I’ve fought for the remote before. I just can’t enjoy the show.
In my psychology class, which proves to be the most interesting fifty-five minutes of every day of school, we watched a video on some woman’s struggle with washing her hands and everything. She couldn’t sit on the floor, and she cleaned everything incessantly. I saw something once about how some guy couldn’t touch doorknobs. Eventually, through therapy, he was able to touch them, even achieving the ability to *lick* them!
I can lick doorknobs. I can also crawl through small places and overlook scenery from great heights. I just hate doing those things. I’m not afraid of pooping my pants in front of millions. I would just hate to.
I’m sitting here, ironically, excluded from my Psychology class. I’m the douche who forgot to turn in his permission form to see Sybil, a movie about a schizophrenic, multiple-personality patient who goes crazy or something. I’ve been sent here to read. The book I’m reading is somehow even more brutal: my English teacher gave me a Joseph Wambaugh book entitled The Blooding, about brutal rape-murders in small English villages.
So naturally I can put that down for a minute. I wonder why we’re so compelled to learn about abnormal psych. It must be because it’s like a taste of the extreme forms of ourselves- what we’d be like if we were just a little more dopaminically imbalanced. We are the tame, lento forms of those who can’t lick doorknobs to save their lives.
Ah, well. Life’d be more interesting (and valuable) with raving lunatics all about. I always long to test my abilities (my most impressive of which are parkour and evasive maneuvering, which are seriously lacking) against a fiendish mental patient.
That in itself is probably a disorder.
aestheism, not atheism.