The OCD Diaries

August 22, 2015August 22, 2015

Skinny Like A Fool

At dinner with friends one night, a conversation about weight control got started. It reminded me of how hard I used to work to stay thin, and how dangerous some of my methods were.

Examples:

–In my late teens, I got the bright idea that I could party and drink all I wanted on the weekends with no danger of weight gain if I starved myself during the week, often living on one cheese sandwich a day. As a little treat to make it bearable, I chain smoked in the storage room next to my bedroom.

–My senior year in high school I wanted to drop a lot of weight fast. So for two weeks straight, I ate nothing but Raisin Bran from a mug two times a day and nothing else. I also ran laps around the basement for two hours a day. It worked so well that I adopted it as my post binge regimen every few weeks. It lasted into my early 20s.

–In my late 20s, after years of vicious binge eating sent my weight to nearly 300 pounds, I lost more than a hundred pounds through some healthy means and some fairly stupid tactics, like fasting for half of Tuesday and most of Wednesday. On Wednesdays, I would also triple my workout time on the elliptical cross-training machine at the gym. All this so I would be happy with the number on the scale come Thursday morning, my weekly weigh-in time. Thursday through Saturday, I would eat like a pig, then severely pull back on the eating by Sunday. Call it the 3-4 program (binge three days, starve four days, repeat).

–In my early-to-mid 30s, some of my most vicious binge eating happened. For a while, though, I kept the weight down my walking 3.5 miles every day, no matter the weather. I also never ate dinner, but would eat like a pig earlier in the day. This was while I was working a night job, which allowed me to get away with the dinner-skipping part. That worked great for a couple years, but then the dam broke and I binged my way to a 65-pound weight gain by the end.

Today I put almost everything I eat on a little scale and I avoid flour and sugar. I don’t exercise as much as I should, I’m not idle, either.

I don’t always get it perfect. I’m also nowhere close to skinny.

But I’m a lot healthier — and probably a little smarter — than I used to be.

August 10, 2015August 10, 2015

I Was Like the Car at the End of “The Blues Brothers”

On a recent Saturday, I slept a ton. It was all I could do to get up and use the bathroom or wash some dishes. It’s happened before, and the circumstances are always the same: For a couple months, I run hard with work projects and personal tasks. Then I arrive at the start of a vacation, and my body completely craps out.

The other day it dawned on me that I’m a lot like Jake and Elwood’s car, the Bluesmobile, at the end of The Blues Brothers.

Elwood drives that car hard throughout the two-hour movie, especially during the mega police chase from their gig to downtown Chicago. They go 102 mph for most of the ride and the car keeps moving, even after the engine takes a bullet and throws a rod.

They finally stop when they reach their destination, then this happens:

Unlike the Bluesmobile, I was able to pick myself up after collapsing. Erin and I had a great vacation, traveling around Concord, Amherst, Northampton, and the Berkshires while the kids spent the week at Boy Scouts camp. I’m all better now.

the blues brothers movie poster

July 15, 2015July 15, 2015

An Open Letter to Berkeley Breathed

Dear Mr. Breathed,

I’m thrilled — thrilled! — that you’re bringing back “Bloom County.” I grew up reading your deliciously demented take on life in the 1980s. As a metalhead, my favorite story line was Billy and the Boingers. I loved that Steve Dallas casually decided that forming and managing a band with Opus and Bill the Cat would be more lucrative than defending serial killers.

Mood music:

https://youtu.be/sNKCPk1tl9Q

When air traffic controllers went on strike and Ronald Reagan fired them all, you brilliantly turned it into a story about Santa’s Elves going on strike and getting fired by the President.

I equally devoured the saga of Steve Dallas quitting smoking and Bill the Cat getting exiled to the Soviet Union, where his job at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant ended badly:

BillTheCat

I could go on, but I think I’ve established my credentials as a “Bloom County” fanboy.

Now, I don’t mean to be an ungrateful fanboy, but I did feel that you lost your way at various points.

That jag where Opus was being hunted by pissed-off Mary Kay cosmetics saleswomen was a little flat. The time you turned Steve Dallas into the mirror opposite of his true personality also fell flat for me. I appreciate what you tried to do there. I just didn’t laugh like I did when Binkley’s old man agonized over whether he was a racist for not voting for Jesse Jackson in the 1988 presidential primaries.

You made me sad when you ended “Bloom County,” though the final installments, where all the characters were finding other comic strip character jobs, was wonderful. I think I was depressed for a week when the final strip came out:

cfb404fc9f047503eb3104b568b5767c

But then you created “Outland,” which was a yawner from the start. I tried to like it. I even named a pet mouse after Ronald-Ann when it became clear you were going to give her a lead role in the new series. (Ronald-Ann the mouse eventually got her head eaten by another pet mouse, but I digress…)

I think you knew you were floundering. That’s why you started bringing back the old Bloom County stars for visits. But it just didn’t click. All I wanted — all most of your fans wanted — was for “Bloom County” to come back.

Now it’s back and I’m giddy as can be. But I’m also a little nervous. Will you truly rise to the occasion?

The world has changed in 25 years and there’s plenty of fertile ground you can cover. Some things I’m hoping you’ll address:

What does Binkley’s anxiety closet look like in the post-9-11 world?
Is Steve Dallas going to get hooked on e-cigs and go back to defending killers? And is his mom coming back to lecture him (I hope)?
Is Milo Bloom editor of the Bloom Beacon now, and, if so, who are his favorite targets of scorn now that Senator Bedfellow is long gone?
Speaking of the Bloom Beacon, how well has it made the jump to digital media?

You can’t really go back to lampooning Prince Charles and Princess Diana, but you have tons of celebrities to pick on in 2015. Donald Trump. Hillary Clinton. Kanye West. And there are plenty of fresh political battles to sink your teeth into. I’m interested in what “Bloom County” thinks of government surveillance and the push to legalize pot. And Congress is more broken than ever. Surely you can have some fun with that.

And, in case you didn’t know, heavy metal is popular again. Bring back the Boingers.

Your biggest fanboy,

Bill

Bloom County Cast

March 1, 2015March 14, 2015

The Star Trek Lie

Back when I was a binge-eating, 280-pound pile of waste, I’d hide in my room for hours, sometimes days, watching Star Trek. Since my life was such a mess, hiding in the world of science fiction was only natural.

Now, when I’m in the same space as someone wearing the plastic pointy ears and Klingon forehead (go to the premier of any Star Trek movie and you’ll understand), I feel more like the punk on the bus in “Star Trek 4.”

I used to channel my OCD on movies and TV shows with larger-than-life heroes and villains. Star Wars. Superman. Star Trek. It beat the hell out of real life.

I guess it started when I was around 8 and first starting to get really sick from Crohn’s Disease. I had just gotten out of the hospital in December 1978 when “Superman: The Movie” first came out. It was the best possible escape from reality I could have found at the time.

I saw it repeatedly — first in the theaters and then whenever it was on TV. One afternoon, when it was set to premier on HBO, a coastal storm knocked out the power and deprived me of the movie. I flipped out.

It was the same thing with the Star Wars movies. Pretending I was a Jedi or crackerjack X-wing pilot was much more satisfying than being the fat, sick child whose home life was high tension as my parents’ marriage disintegrated.

Even as a young adult it was better to live in the world of make-believe than to accept life as it truly was. A lightsaber really would have come in handy. So would the power to choke people and control their actions just by telling The Force it’s what you wanted.

Which brings me back to Star Trek.

This was the obsession of my 20s, particularly the Next Generation. As a young pup working my way up the newsroom ladder under intense deadlines that in hindsight really weren’t all that intense, I would act like a young lieutenant on the bridge of the Enterprise, saving the day while Romulans were trying to blow up the ship.

Remember the Star Trek juror, the woman who insisted on appearing for jury duty in a Starfleet uniform? When a colleague jokingly called me the Star Trek juror, I was genuinely insulted.

Fast-forward a decade or so. If Star Trek is on I’ll watch it. But unlike the old days, I usually have better things to do.

My whole perception of film has changed, in fact. Instead of daydreaming about the hero of the film for days after seeing it and wishing to God I was something a little more than what I was, I watch a movie and simply enjoy it.

You’ve heard the so-called Trekkies before: Star Trek is all about a future that could be, where money is no longer important, everyone has enough to eat and you can trade your blow-up doll for something a lot more realistic in the holodeck.

Ever since bringing my OCD under control and emerging from my wannabe fantasy land, I’ve noticed more than a few kinks in the Star Trek armor:

–There are a lot of aliens with mental baggage who like to blow up planets and kill off entire civilizations. When I struggled with my own mental baggage, I hurt myself all the time. But I never once considered blowing up some poor bastard’s planet. Does that make me oddly heroic?

–People get drunk off of beverages with “synthahol” instead of alcohol. Apparently you avoid hangovers by getting drunk this way. The problem with that is you gotta feel some pain to realize you’re a little too reliant on the sauce.

–Those food replicators would be disastrous for a compulsive binge eater like me. I’ve mentioned how I used to lie about what I was doing and cover my tracks. These contraptions would make it a lot easier for me to do that. I don’t want it to be easier.

–Those holodecks are like my old movie fascination in a nutshell: A fake world you could get lost in. When you can recreate all the things that give you pleasure, why would you ever leave? And if you stayed in there all the time, think of the much cooler — and real — stuff you’d be missing.

The real world as I know it is far from perfect. The demons are still in my head and there’s still a lot of pain that gets forced on us. A transporter would certainly be better for travel than sitting on Interstate 93 for two hours.

But the real world has been a lot nicer to me since I learned to accept it for who it is.

Image by EddieTheYeti:

January 21, 2015

This Song Isn’t What You Thought It Was

In the 1990s, the band Semisonic had a hit with the song “Closing Time.” I always thought it was about closing time at a bar. Pretty much everyone did.

But according to singer-guitarist Dan Wilson, it’s about something far different. Enjoy this video as he breaks it down verse by verse.

51357YAADRL

December 1, 2014

Fun with the “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” Trailer

The opinions are flowing since Friday’s release of the Star Wars: The Force Awakens movie trailer.

Some people have stupidly made a big deal out of a black man being in a stormtrooper outfit. Others hate the lightsaber wielded by what appears to be a Sith lord.

I don’t care about those things. I also don’t care if J.J. Abrams sticks to Star Wars canon or not. I just want to see a fun movie with a good story and strong characters.

Here’s what I care about above all: the parodies that inevitably surface. In the case of Episode VII, not a second has been wasted.

Here’s the actual trailer:

Now for a version showing what the trailer would look like if George Lucas had made it:

And, of course, it was inevitable that someone would make a LEGO version:

All of which are fun. Enjoy.

November 25, 2014May 5, 2020

Laughing off the Emotionally Scarring Back Stories

When I first opened up about events that scarred me for life, I worried about how it would be perceived. Would I be seen as a whiny, attention-seeking weakling? The reaction was almost entirely the opposite, which has helped me look at my own challenges with better humor.

In all the conversations with people that followed the launch of The OCD Diaries, it’s become plain that most of us have an emotionally scarring back story. Hearing your stories makes me feel a lot more normal. I’ve learned that because everyone has dark episodes in their lives, I’m really not unique. I don’t stick out like a bloody, wart-riddled thumb, after all.

Some of you have been scarred by war, some of you by years of drug and alcohol abuse. Some of you lost one or both parents at a young age, and some of you had stepparents you hated as teenagers. My scars were forged by childhood illness, my parent’s bitter divorce and the premature death of a sibling and two best friends (one by suicide). My addictions and mental illnesses were the byproducts, helped along by chemical imbalances in the brain.

It’s not what I’ve been through that defines me. It’s what I’ve learned from the experiences and how I’ve used the lessons to be a better person. It’s the same for everyone.

Some lose the game, committing suicide or crimes that lead to a life behind bars. Those of us who don’t end up that way aren’t better. We just had a better combination of luck, faith and support systems. And a better sense of humor.

I love when the humor part is done well on TV, in books and online. A favorite example is Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz from Phineas and Ferb, a favorite TV show of my kids.

Doofenshmirtz is an evil genius who can never get his act together. He hates just about everything and wants to take over the “tri-state area” to feel better about himself. He makes sinister devices with –inator as the suffix, and they fail every time. His nemesis is Perry the Platypus, a secret agent whose cover is being the pet of Phineas and Ferb.

Doofenshmirtz is always motivated by emotionally scarring back stories. His was a mentally abusive childhood in Gimmelshtump, Drusselstein. His parents overlook him in favor his brother, Roger, he’s shunned socially, and it’s hilarious. It helps a guy like me laugh off my own back stories — or at least put them in a better perspective.

I leave you with one of my favorite snippets:

June 11, 2014

The Blues Brothers’ Brand of Catholicism

The Blues Brothers is one of my all-time favorite comedies. What’s not to love about over-the-top police chases, white supremacists being pushed over a bridge by an oncoming car and levitating nuns?

My kids finally reached an age to see the film, and they loved every minute of it. Being good Catholic school boys, they especially loved watching two guys get into all manner of trouble to raise money to save a Catholic orphanage.

Mood video:

As a converted Catholic, I’ve read the Biblical passages about Jesus befriending slimy tax collectors and thieves. People often miss the point that He came down to save people like that and that all dirtbags have a shot at redemption.

Given my earlier history of bad behavior and the struggles I still have in being a good person, it’s a faith I cling to hard, hoping that I ultimately earn my blessings.

When things are hard, it’s easy for people to get discouraged and lose faith. What I love about The Blues Brothers is that Jake and Elwood Blues are constantly getting shit hurled at them. The cops are after them, the Illinois Nazis want to kill them and Jake’s ex keeps trying to blow them to bits. But they’re undeterred, plodding along, putting their band back together and playing a concert to raise the tax money to save the orphanage they grew up in.

They misbehave in every possible way, but their hearts stay in the right place.

They go back to prison, but they accomplish their “mission from God.”

The movie symbolizes something special for me: faith that stands up to everything. I doubt that’s how John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd planned it. The movie is ultimately a celebration of Chicago and the blues.

But it’s what I got from it, and it makes me happy.

The Blues Brothers

May 4, 2014

Luke Skywalker Has OCD (May The 4th Be With You, Too)

In honor of Star Wars Day, I share an observation about Luke Skywalker. The dude went through a lot in life, and I respected that. But there has always been something about him that gets on my fucking nerves.

Was it the way he whined like a baby after Darth Vader introduced himself as Luke’s Daddy?

Was it the way he utterly failed to stand up to Uncle Owen before the latter was blasted to a crisp along with Aunt Beru?

No.

Like most of the people I can’t stand, the problem is that I look at Luke and see my reflection…

March 5, 2014

25 Things That Won’t Really Piss Off Friends With OCD

The Dorm Stormer website has a photo spread of about 25 things it claims will piss off friends with OCD.

As someone who does have OCD, let me offer my two cents.

Mood music:

Straightaway, the photo spread strikes me as dumb: I don’t feel irritated or insulted. It lacks cleverness and real humor.

OCD humor done well is something I enjoy. If you can make me laugh about the condition I live with every day, then I salute you. But you have to do it well, and this article doesn’t. It falls back on the oldest clich&eactue;s in the book.

The misspelled words on the parking lot pavement? If I saw it in front of me I’d have a good laugh, take a picture and put it on Twitter and Facebook. But the sight of it would not yank my triggers.

Fire Misspelling

Same goes for the orange juice in the grocery section marked “eggs.”

The mismatched soda bottles and crooked pictures? That shit got old a long time ago.

pepsi bottle fail

The examples used barely scratch the surface of what true OCD suffering is about — the constant worry and paranoia, the sleepless nights, the stress-induced amplification of addictive behavior, the fear of leaving one’s house and having to talk to other people.

My friend, if you found imagery to lampoon that stuff, I’d me lapping it up.

Try again.

dormthumb