For someone who struggles with OCD, however, when you add a new layer of anxiety onto what’s already a mountainous pile, the results are catastrophic. For me, it meant spooning with everyday household appliances. Massaging knobs, buttons, door handles, utility drawers. Rubbing and pinching the accordion ridges along the refrigerator door, surveying for breadcrumbs and vegetable peelings invisible to the naked eye, groping and tugging on the handle of the apartment front door. It meant walking to the bottom of the building stairwell, pausing for a few beats, then pacing and twirling while
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