HEY ALEX
JUST A FEW WORDS IS ALL I NEED TO SAY "YES IT DOES GET EASIER! WANA TALK MORE ?
E.MAIL ME! Robinleigh@...
TAKE IT EASY
----- Original Message -----
From: Alexandra Oliver
To: theobsessivelycleanden@...
Sent: Friday, May 31, 2002 12:13 AM
Subject: [The Obsessively Clean Den] Hello there



Hello everyone!



My name is Alexandra. I'm 31 and I live in Vancouver, Canada. I'm a writer and
illustrator, and I also work as a college instructor. Most of the time, I'm a
fun, daffy, cheery person who loves people, loves to go out, loves a good time,
loves to enjoy life. But there is something in the back room of my life which
has been there since I was a child. I need not say what it is.

I'm a checker. A terrible checker. I was on Paxil for two years, and that
really helped me, but I went off it. I couldn't handle the weight gain (I went
up to 135 lb from 110. Yikes!) and I lost all interest in sex. I prefer to go
drug-free, to make myself feel better through a busy work and social life and a
bit of sport.

Since I've been off the meds I've, most of the time been alright. As I write
this, I'm going through what could be called a bad spot. My boyfriend has gone
off to London for a week, and one of my most horrid obsessive-compulsive
behaviours has come back. I have a preoccupation with disturbing texts and
images. Images of , or texts concerning violence or disease or craziness.
Graphic medical images are the worst. If I see an image in a book or magazine in
my house with anything like it, I'll get out of bed at night a thousand times to
sneak a peek at it, before I end up ripping the picture up and burning it, or
giving a friend the offending book to hang onto.

Recently I was in the library of my college, looking for videos (for both an
ESL course I was teaching as well as some old movies for my own pleasure at
home.) and, just my goddamn luck, I stumbled into the medical section. There was
a video there with a photo of a smiling couple. The woman's face had been
blotted out. The back of the tape showed an image of a man, a hospital patient,
with a metal halo on his head. He was surrounded by people in scrubs, obviously
about to do something quite dreadful to him. I read the blurb on the back of the
tape. It was a documentary following the progress-slash -declineof four mental
patients in the Harvard University Medical Center Psych Ward. According to the
box, the film contained both old and current footage of medical procedures
performed on pychiatric patients. It also carried a hefty warning that the film
contained scenes which would be offensive to some viewers.



That was that. My mind was swimming. During my research afternoon at the
library, I was tempted to go back again and again to look at the box. I was even
tempted to screen bits of it, but I didn't. That night, at home, I kept
remembering that box. I couldn't sleep. My heart was pounding. I was so scared,
and I did not know why.



Today I am at my college, preparing for the same course. I have to go down to
the library to drop off some things and get a book. I am afraid that I will want
to look at that box again. Oh God, I feel terrible. You must think I'm cuckoo,
but I'm not, most of the time. Please tell me that if I don't go through with my
compulsive looking it will go away eventually.



Best wishes,



Alex



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