It has been a stressful month for me. My editor wants me to submit my work by the end of the week, and he has only given me a MONTH! Jeezus, who could do that.
He even gave me compliments like, *I know you can do it.*, *It's pretty easy, especially for you.*, *You have that natural talent!* I mean, seriously, who could write a whole book in a month?!
Due to stress, my OCD has been kicking in again. I had this back in high school, but my meds worked and it stopped. Or so I thought. This week, I noticed that the symptoms are back.
There are certain actions wherein I have that need to do things in multiples of 8. I don't know what triggers it, it just happens.
Once when I was walking, I unconsciously turned my head to my right. And then I felt it, the urge to look again. And again. And again. I even counted it, 8 times.
Then I turned to my left and again counted 8 times.
Another time is when I rolled my eyes, then I noticed that I just did that. So I did it again 8 freaking times.
There was also this time when I accidentally bumped my bathroom door.
I was pretty irritated by the urge to bump my door 8 times that I miscounted and reached 9, so I just bumped it some more to reach 16 times. Multiples of fucking 8. It's pretty annoying, you see.
A few of my friends noticed it, and told me to go see a specialist. They are really worried that it may cause me more serious problems if I don't drink my meds.
Who has the time to go to a specialist?! I need to finish my book! So I decided to just shrug it off. I might see the doctor, but not now. Maybe when I finish my book. You know, priorities.
Today, I was supposed to give my editor the initial draft of my book. And I was really nervous that I hadn't noticed that a cat was walking across the road and I accidentally ran over it.
I felt really bad, but I just continued driving. This day is really important to me, I mean, this is my first book. This is my big break.
And then I felt it. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't just shrug it off. I made a quick turn, looked sideways, and there it is, another cat! So I did what I had to do - I counted. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5..
6.. 7.. Okay, last one.
As I stepped on my pedal for the last one, a really adorable fluffy white cat, I heard a scream - "Nooo! Mr. Cuddles!". It was too late to hit the brakes.
There in my rear view mirror, I see a kid, lying on the street beside the cat I just hit.
And I thought I was already done counting for the day.