Is it a fun or a serious issue!
Ahmad was waiting impetuously to take his turn but Raja was washing his
hands fourth times, did not know how many more times will he take to clean his
hand. This was not for the first time, it was his regular feature.
When Rahim goes out, he has to check just about everything. Did he turn
off all the lights? Did he shut the door properly? Did he forget the television
on? Rahim is very worried that the house maybe broken into or his house might
be on fire and goes back and checks it again. By the time he is done checking
the last thing, he wasn't too sure he checked the first thing.
Amina has another problem. She was always very concern about the toilet.
After using it, she used to clean up the toilet for five or six times every
time.
During the early days of their marriage, Yasmin started to wonder why
her husband Akram was spending so much time in the bathroom. Akram made roughly
10 trips to the bathroom that day and spent on average 5 – 10 minutes each
time; this was nearly every day. Yasmin was curious, so decided to find out
what was happening? One morning while Akram was in the bathroom, she quietly
went up to the door and listened. She heard continuous heavy water running. She
saw Akram’s hands in the wash basin, scrubbing and scrubbing, rinsing the soap
off, then starting again, scrubbing and scrubbing. Later on Yasmin discussed
the matter with Akram. He told her that he felt dirty all the time and could
not do anything without carrying out his rituals. He also accepted that he was
unable to help it.
These are the common example in our everyday life that we come across.
In most of the cases people make it a fun/joke of someone involved in these
types of activities. Before going into its detail, I would love to share the
following story of an individual to point out a very serious issue of our
community.
(This article
appeared in 'The Press' on Sat 6 October 2001, by Susannah Hawtin)
Robyn Corner was twenty-eight years
old. It was a week before her wedding. The alarm went off at 7.00am as usual.
She turned to switch it off, and was immediately overwhelmed by the feeling of
dread that had been her constant companion for the past six months.
She went to the bathroom and washed her hands. She stepped inside the shower and started to wash herself, washing her hands repeatedly between washing different parts of her body. Three quarters of an hour later she emerged, gathered up her nightwear and towel and dumped them in the washing machine. Her hands felt dirty again so she returned to the bathroom to clean them. By now her hands were washed red raw so she rubbed in some moisturizer. They didn’t feel as clean and Robyn felt a strong urge to wash them once more. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and told herself not to be so stupid, that she would be late for work again if she didn’t get a move on. But she couldn’t resist the urge. She quickly washed her hands and hurried into the kitchen, kicking the door open to avoid contact with the germ-ridden doorknob.
After breakfast - and several more hand washes - Robyn systematically went from room to room locking and checking all the doors and windows. Finally she stepped outside the house. By now she was already late for work but thought she’d better go back inside and check everything one more time, just to be sure. When this was done, she got into her car and drove down the street. Before she reached the end of the road she wondered if she had locked the front door properly. Back she went and checked the handle five more times.
Robyn had almost reached her workplace when she was suddenly plagued by the idea that she might have accidentally hit a cyclist. She mentally retraced her steps. She remembered driving past a few cyclists but certainly didn’t notice that she had hit any of them at the time. However, just to be on the safe side, she decided to drive round the block again. It came as no surprise when she didn’t see any injured cyclists lying on the road and she cursed herself for giving into such an irrational idea.
When Robyn finally pulled up outside her place of work she looked at her watch and saw that, yet again, she was unacceptably late. Work started at 8.30am not 10.30am.
Robyn was diagnosed as having Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in 1994. Her diagnosis came as a relief. At least now she knew she wasn’t going crazy and that the behaviour that had inexplicably taken over her life had a name and was treatable. While her family was generally supportive she said the majority of people didn’t understand.
She went to the bathroom and washed her hands. She stepped inside the shower and started to wash herself, washing her hands repeatedly between washing different parts of her body. Three quarters of an hour later she emerged, gathered up her nightwear and towel and dumped them in the washing machine. Her hands felt dirty again so she returned to the bathroom to clean them. By now her hands were washed red raw so she rubbed in some moisturizer. They didn’t feel as clean and Robyn felt a strong urge to wash them once more. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and told herself not to be so stupid, that she would be late for work again if she didn’t get a move on. But she couldn’t resist the urge. She quickly washed her hands and hurried into the kitchen, kicking the door open to avoid contact with the germ-ridden doorknob.
After breakfast - and several more hand washes - Robyn systematically went from room to room locking and checking all the doors and windows. Finally she stepped outside the house. By now she was already late for work but thought she’d better go back inside and check everything one more time, just to be sure. When this was done, she got into her car and drove down the street. Before she reached the end of the road she wondered if she had locked the front door properly. Back she went and checked the handle five more times.
Robyn had almost reached her workplace when she was suddenly plagued by the idea that she might have accidentally hit a cyclist. She mentally retraced her steps. She remembered driving past a few cyclists but certainly didn’t notice that she had hit any of them at the time. However, just to be on the safe side, she decided to drive round the block again. It came as no surprise when she didn’t see any injured cyclists lying on the road and she cursed herself for giving into such an irrational idea.
When Robyn finally pulled up outside her place of work she looked at her watch and saw that, yet again, she was unacceptably late. Work started at 8.30am not 10.30am.
Robyn was diagnosed as having Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in 1994. Her diagnosis came as a relief. At least now she knew she wasn’t going crazy and that the behaviour that had inexplicably taken over her life had a name and was treatable. While her family was generally supportive she said the majority of people didn’t understand.
I would continue
this discussion in my next article.
No comments:
Post a Comment