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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…

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Basil Fawlty Can Suck It

I know many fans of the old BBC show Fawlty Towers. People love to laugh at lead character Basil Fawlty, who’s perpetually unhinged, rude and ridiculous. Viewers can laugh at Basil’s expense and even feel a little grateful for not being that guy. But I have to confess that I despise the show.

Mood music:

When I watch an episode, I actually get stressed out. My anxiety goes through the roof every time Basil puts his foot in his mouth or hapless waiter Manuel drops food on a dining room guest.

If you’re thinking my reaction is absurd, you’re probably right. It is, after all, just a TV show — a comedy at that.

But Basil flips an old switch deep in my brain. It’s the switch that used to trigger my own episodes of bat-shit madness. I probably was never that off the wall outwardly. But I felt that out of control inside all the time. I was like Basil Fawlty, haphazardly running from one calamity to the next. And there was nothing funny about it.

That was the old fear and anxiety at work in my soul, with disaster and sorrow lurking around every corner. Fear of not measuring up at work. Fear of losing more loved ones.

Things were never that bad. It just felt that way to me all the time.

There are a lot of fictional characters out there who entertain me with their insane behavior. Lord Business, the villain in the Lego Movie, is a pretty good example. So is Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz from Phineas and Ferb. I love those characters because I see a bit of myself in them and they comfort me because I know I’m not alone.

We laugh at these characters because we all see some of ourselves in them.

That being the case, my hatred of Fawlty Towers makes no sense. It really doesn’t. And yet I can’t stand it.

Maybe someday I’ll figure it out.

Fawlty Towers

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Lego Movie Revelation: I Was Evil Lord Business

We went as a family to see The Lego Movie a couple weeks ago and loved it. I was particularly fond of the goth-metal Batman. But I also saw a lot of my old self in Lord Business, the film’s evil villain.

Mood music:

Editor’s Note: If you don’t like spoilers, stop reading now.

Lord Business wants to glue everything solid so no one can mess with his carefully constructed universe. To do this, he plans to use a superweapon called the “Kragle” — a tube of Krazy Glue with the label partially rubbed off. If you want to see real Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder personified, Lord Business is your man.

He hates chaos and wants to do something to stop it. By unleashing the Kragle, he hopes to make it impossible for others to come along and “mess with his stuff.”

When my OCD was at it’s worst, I craved order. I’ve also been the parent of two toddlers. And as we all know, toddlers are messy.

By the end of a typical day, Sean and Duncan would routinely transformed the living room into a sea of debris, with toys covering the carpet and blankets and couch cushions tossed about randomly (the cushions still make me crazy).

I went absolutely mad on a daily basis, trying to stay one step ahead of the chaos, picking up toys and cushions as the kids deposited them on the floor. They’d dump stuff, I’d pick it up, and they’d dump more stuff. It got so bad that my heart felt like it would explode every time.

It led to me yelling at the kids a lot. That yelling is what made me start to look in the mirror and contemplate big changes in my life.

I won’t lie: I still don’t like chaos. But I have, for the most part, learned to peacefully co-exist with it. It helps that the kids are older and, though still messy, there’s more of an order to their messiness. They’re also old enough to clean up after themselves now.

Lord Business ultimately sees the error of his ways and has a change of heart.

I doubt the people who made this movie set out to create an OCD case study. But like most films made for children, you can pull plenty of life lessons from this one.

lego movie

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Wherein I Run Afoul Of The U.S. Secret Service

My resolve against the inner demons is tested regularly.

Some are little tests, like being put in a room with all the food and alcohol I once binged on daily to see if I can resist the temptation.

Some are bigger tests, like getting lost en route to Washington D.C a few years ago with my wife and kids in the car. Getting lost in a car used to be the stuff my anxiety attacks were made of.

Then there are the huge tests, like the time I got an unexpected grilling from two U.S. Secret Service officers — incidentally, the day after getting lost on the interstate somewhere in New Jersey.

Mood music: 

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I wrote a full account of the encounter for CSOonline.com in “What it’s like to be grilled by the Secret Service,” so I won’t repeat it all here. That column captures it from a security perspective.

Here I’ll focus on the emotional part.

First, the gist of what happened: I was taking photos from my BlackBerry of Marine One (with President Obama aboard) taking off from the White House South Lawn. I guess I lingered there for too long, because the Secret Service thought I was taking surveillance photos. Two Android smartphones later, I’m amused they found BlackBerry-quality photos threatening.

One of them was pretty tough and didn’t believe my honest protests that I was just taking pictures and walking around there because I’m a White House history buff. One officer played bad cop, grilling me as if I were just caught red-handed robbing a bank. The other guy played the reassuring role. “We’re just going to get one of these for our records,” he cooed as he snapped a picture of my unshaven face.

Apparently nobody ever showed them the picture of the Brenners visiting the West Wing three months earlier. They did note that I was texting a lot as I walked, and they wanted to know who I was texting. When I told them it was Howard Schmidt, President Obama’s then-cybersecurity advisor, it knocked them off stride. I told them I was making dinner plans with Howard, that I was buying him dinner to thank him for giving me, the wife and kids the West Wing tour.

“Why didn’t you tell us that in the first place?” the meaner of the two cops asked.

As I told Howard what happened over burgers that evening, he had a good laugh.

I didn’t fault the Secret Service cops at the time. It’s not their job to know these things. It’s their job to nail terrorist activity when they see it. Could he have been a bit nicer to me, given that I was doing nothing wrong and all? Sure. But I try not to hold grudges.

It does say something about how much of a police state we’ve become in the decade-plus since 9-11, though. I also admit that if I could do it again, I’d be more belligerent. Government’s excessive reach into our lives has been laid bare since then. If I knew then what I know now, I would have been far more outraged.

Truth be told, the experience did freak me out. My back went into spasms and my hands shook for hours after. As they were in my face accusing me of running a terrorist surveillance mission, I was thinking to myself, “If these assholes haul me in, it’s really going to screw up the work I had planned for this afternoon.” I’m a typical OCD case, worrying that getting arrested will screw up the work day.

But it’s all good.

I didn’t go back to my hotel room and order $80 worth of food and a bottle of wine to comfort myself. A few years ago, a friendly encounter with Secret Service would have made me do that.

My mind wasn’t paralyzed, either. I got a lot of work done back at the hotel, even with the headache.

And hell, I got a pretty good column out of the experience.

Secret-Service-agents-death-investigated

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How to Apply for Social Security Benefits for OCD Suffers

Guest blogger Ram Meyyappan explains how severe-OCD sufferers can receive financial help.

If you suffer from obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), Social Security Disability (SSD) benefits may be available to you. Before applying, you will want to learn more about the application, review, and qualification processes with the Social Security Administration (SSA). The following tips will help you better understand the programs available and the process of applying.

Tip #1: Understand How to Medically Qualify for Benefits for OCD 

The SSA reviews OCD claims under the listing for anxiety-related disorders in the Blue Book, which is a manual of disabling conditions and the medical evidence needed to qualify for benefits with each of those conditions.

The listing that applies to OCD requires your medical records prove you experience persistent and severe symptoms that include at least one of the following:

  • Anxiety
  • Irrational fears
  • Panic attacks
  • Compulsions or obsessions
  • Reliving traumatic events

In addition to documenting symptoms matching at least one of those listed above, your medical records must also document that your OCD also causes:

  • An inability to function outside your own home without constant assistance or monitoring

OR

  • Severe issues that include two of the following:
    • Pronounced difficulties in completing everyday activities, including essential activities of daily living
    • Functioning socially
    • Concentrating, completing tasks, or moving at a reasonable pace
    • Recurrent episodes of increased symptoms, even while undergoing treatment

For more information on medically qualifying with OCD, read “OCD and Social Security Disability.”

Tip #2: Learn How to Financially Qualify for Benefits 

The SSA also requires you to meet certain financial or technical eligibility requirements to receive SSD benefits through either or both of the disability programs available:

  • For Supplemental Security Income (SSI) benefits, you must have very limited income and other financial resources you can draw on.
  • For Social Security Disability Insurance (SSDI), you must have worked and earned work credits by paying Social Security taxes, making $1,070 per month or less due to OCD. This is what the SSA considers the threshold for substantial gainful activity (SGA).

You can read more about SSDI and SSI in “Benefits for People With Disabilities.”

Tip #3: Fill Out the Application Completely

To be approved for disability benefits, you must completely fill out the application and ensure the information is accurate and matches your medical records. It is good to have another individual, such as a friend, family member or Social Security advocate or attorney, review your application prior to filing. They may see missing details or contradictory statements that you have overlooked.

Missing or incomplete information in your application will cause delays in the review of your claim. These kinds of errors can also result in your being found ineligible for benefits. For this reason, providing thorough documentation and accurate information on the SSA’s forms is crucial.

Tip #4: Appeal If Your Claim Is Denied

If your claim for SSD benefits is denied, you can file an appeal. The first appeal is typically a request for a reconsideration review of your application. This must be filed within 60 days of that date of the denial notice you receive in the mail.

If you are denied a second time, you will need to request an appeal hearing before an administrative law judge to continue trying to get disability benefits. That request for appeal must also be filed within 60 days of the denial notice you receive.

Ram Meyyappan writes for the Social Security Disability Help blog.

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The Ego OCD Built

The author has an ego that sometimes swells beyond acceptable levels. OCD fuels the fire. Written in December, 2009 and just as real now as it was then.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/Mw0vrH9SPzU

Last night I got on here to explain that sometimes OCD is good for me, in the sense that it provides fuel for my professional ambitions. Some might look at the post and think I was letting vanity take over.

Truth is, I was. And I do it often.

I’m the first to admit that humility isn’t one of my strong suits. I’m working on it, because as a Christian that’s what I need to do. I’ve always been a better talker than listener. I’m going to work on that or die trying.

Before I get too serious about it, it’s worth noting that a lot of OCD types have big egos. Achieving big things is one of the ways we try to fill in that hole that’s always dogging us.  In my profession, getting access to the major power players of information security is a rush. I feel like I am somebody as a result. When I don’t make it to a big security conference, the wheels in my head start spinning. I start to worry that by not being there, I become irrelevant.

When I make it someplace and score, like the time I was able to corner Bob Woodward of Washington Post/Watergate fame at a conference in Florida four years ago, I can be insufferable for months. In that encounter, Woodward was there to deliver a keynote on the state of security. His forte was the larger war on terror and how the Bush White House was waging it. He needed to bone up on the IT aspect and started asking me about antivirus and firewalls, and whether those things really work. Later, during the Q&A part of his keynote, when someone asked him a cybersecurity question, he mentioned that he had talked to a fellow earlier (me) who mentioned that the emerging trend was toward a quiet, sneaky brand of attack. My ego boiled and rose. I was sure to tell EVERYBODY about it.

Today, when I write what I think is a good article, I promote it nonstop. That’s part of my job, of course. If you don’t promote it no one will read it. But I do it with an uber-sized dose of zeal.

Work has always been an OCD trigger for me. The good news is that a lot of my hyperactivity today is driven by joy than fear. A decade ago it was all about fear of not being the golden boy. With the fear gone, I find that sometimes it’s impossible to slow down. Ego is always a presence. The more prolific I am, the more attention I get.

I’m not particularly proud of it, but I do think it’s fair game to laugh at me over it. It’s dangerous for anyone to take themselves too seriously. I don’t in a lot of ways, but I always have to keep an eye out for moments when I do. When others see me taking myself to seriously, I want them to take me down a few pegs.

Fortunately, I have people in my life who do just that. My wife, for example.

My faith is making me more humble, as is my recovery program for the binge eating. But it’s a slow process.

My kids are helping me. They don’t care about the big career milestones. They just want my attention. They want me to read to them and give them a snuggle before bed. They want me to listen to their own milestones. Nothing beats parenthood in forcing me to understand that it’s not all about me.

I’m trying to improve in other ways. I go to Confession regularly because I feel the need to put my ego before the priest and seek forgiveness, which I always receive.

I try more and more to put my ego-driven energy into serving others, whether it’s through my recovery program or other acts of basic decency. It helps. A lot.

This is a journey and I always try to remember that.

All that said, I’ll still admit that getting that story last night felt pretty damn good. Try not to hate me for it. I’ll try not to hate myself.

Do feel free to laugh at me, though. Ego-laden people are amusing to watch.

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Find Yourself a Real Doctor

Written in June, 2010.

Here’s the thing: Asking me for medical advice is like asking Charles Manson how to be a pacifist.

Mood music:

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In the months since I started this blog, I’ve noticed something expected but weird nonetheless:

People are coming to me for medical advice.

Several people who saw my post on living with Crohn’s Disease sent me their phone numbers and asked me to call them. I always do, and the person at the other end will start listing a bunch of issues they’re having and asking me what I think.

In one of my posts about the binge eating addiction I mentioned that at the deepest depths of the addiction I would get chest pains and wake up in the middle of the night puking up stomach acid. Someone wanted to talk about how that’s been happening to them.

Then there’s the OCD itself. People will approach me in droves about their issues and how they think they might have OCD or some other mental disorder.

To be clear, I’m not putting down those who have come to me with this stuff. I respect them all and am glad they feel they can talk to me. Sometimes talking about your problems in and of itself is a huge step on the road to dealing with it. I’m more than happy to help. Heck, that’s one of the reasons I started this blog.

But before we go any further, I just want everyone to remember that I’m not a doctor and no two sufferers are the same.

I’m the last person you want to go to for a medical advice. That would be like going to Charles Manson for a better understanding of law and order.

It’s natural to ask someone who has been through something you think you might have for advice before seeking out a doctor. I’ve done it many times myself. The thought of seeing a doctor and going for a bunch of tests is scary.

But it’s necessary.

Had I not found the right doctors along the way, I’d be in bad shape today, maybe even dead (mentally dead, anyway).

All I have to offer is my personal experiences. I can tell you where I’ve been, what I’ve learned from the experience and how I got to the generally good health I enjoy today. But none of what I tell you will be rooted in medical certainty. There are people out there who have been through very similar experiences as mine. But everyone’s outcome is a bit different, especially when it comes to the treatment methods that work for the individual.

My solution to the binge-eating disorder was Overeaters Anonymous, a rigid food plan devoid of flour and sugar and a 12-step program. The combination has been a life saver for me, but probably wouldn’t work for a lot of other people.

One of my many tools for managing OCD is the drug Prozac. But the same drug will do nothing for the next guy and might even make matters worse.

This is tricky stuff.

And for that, you need a real doctor.

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Human Tourniquets And Freaks Who Love Them

I originally wrote this three years ago. Looking at it again, it’s an important post describing a time when not even best friends were safe from my insanity. I’ve updated it for the present. 

Mood music:

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You know the type. They hang  out with people who act more like abusive spouses than friends. They are human tourniquets. They absorb the pain of their tormentor daily and without complaint.

This is the story of the man who used to be my tourniquet.

I met Aaron Lewis in 1985, my freshman year of high school. He was the kid with really bad acne. But nothing ever seemed to bother him. I’m sure a lot of things bothered him, but he was very good at hiding his feelings.

That made him the perfect target for a creep like me.

Don’t get me wrong. He was a true friend. One of my best friends. We shared a love of heavy metal. We both got picked on, though unlike me, he didn’t take it out on other, weaker classmates.

We hung out constantly. He practically lived in my Revere basement at times. I let him borrow my car regularly. And if I drank, that was OK, because he almost never drank. He could be the driver.

Except for the time I encouraged him to drink a bottle of vodka. He had just eaten a bag of McDonald’s and I told him I was sick of him trying to get buzzed off of wine coolers. This night, I told him, he was going to do it right. He got smashed, and proceeded to puke all over my basement — on the bed, the carpets, the couch, the dresser. That was some strange vomit. It looked like brown confetti.

I sat on the floor, drunk myself, writing in my journal. I wrote about how drunk Aaron was and prayed to God that he wouldn’t die. Man, would I love to find that journal.

We saw a lot of movies together. We watched a lot of MTV.

He was the perfect counterweight to Sean Marley. Marley was essentially my older brother and I spent a lot of time trying to earn his approval. I didn’t have to do that with Aaron. He didn’t criticize. He didn’t judge. He just took all my mood swings on the chin.

I would sling verbal bombs at him and he’d take it.

I would slap him on the back of the neck and he’d take it.

I was evil. And he took it.

That’s a true friend.

Aaron got married, moved to California and has a growing family. He’s doing some wonderful things with his life. I cleaned up from my compulsive binge eating, found my Faith and untangled the coarse, jagged wiring in my brain that eventually became an OCD diagnosis.

If he’s reading this, I apologize for all the times I was an asshole. I hope somewhere in there, I was a good friend, too.

Buddies
Left: Aaron Lewis. Right: His asshole friend
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Packing For #RSAC and #BSidesSF 2013: An OCD Case Study

I’m preparing to pack for five days in San Francisco, where I’ll be writing about goings on at RSA Conference 2013 and Security B-Sides. When you have OCD, packing a suitcase is as ritualistic as the compulsive hand washing you’ve heard about.

Mood music:

Before I had the OCD under control, packing was an all-day affair. I’d line up all my pants, shirts, socks, suit coats and accessories in order of the days I planned to wear them. I would undergo a similar ritual when gathering toothpaste, the razor, pills, etc. I would always pack extra for fear that I’d be without socks on the second-to-last day of the trip.

I still keep track of what I stuff into the suitcase to ensure I have enough for each day of the trip. But I only look over my cargo twice. It takes less time to do it that way than when I used to look things over five to 10 times.

Packing the laptop bag has gotten easier. I used to cram five notebooks and a handful of pens in there. Now it’s one pen and no notebooks. At this stage of my career, I’m pretty good at storing notes in my head. I don’t let it sit in my head for too long. I usually write up the talks and demos within 10 minutes of seeing them. Some talks, I write the story while I’m sitting there watching.

I also don’t stuff my pockets with cigars and cigarettes anymore. That allows for more room. There are the e-cigs, but they take up less space.

Some things will never change. I’ll always try to get to the airport three hours before the flight because I always worry about unexpected problems and want time to fix what needs fixing. People think that’s crazy and it probably is. This year I’m being a little more bold. I plan to get there exactly two hours before the flight, but that’s because a predicted snowstorm is forcing me to leave a day earlier than originally planned, which is making everything tighter.

Last year I walked around in my big, heavy boots. This year I’m being smart about it and going with the black leather moccasins that slip on and off effortlessly.

I’ll have a supply of Starbucks Via packets in case I can’t find my preferred coffee in the airport.

I’ll have my Kindle, which is lighter than the books I tend to pack. I’m leaving the extra rings and bracelets behind. I figure the less I take with me, the less there is to worry about.

Which brings me to the pills. One year I forgot to grab my Prozac bottle on the way out of the hotel and only realized my mistake after getting through the airport TSA line. Now I just pack the exact number of pills I need for the trip. The rest of the bottle stays home.

Now I’ll have the rest of the day to enjoy time with my family.

Repetitive OCD behavior is a time thief. You lose so much because of it.

I’m not totally free of it, but I’m fighting back.

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My Score on the Yale-Brown Obsessive Compulsive Scale

The Yale-Brown Obsessive Compulsive Scale (Y-BOCS) is yet another of those quick self-tests to see if you have OCD.

While I’m not medically trained, I do have OCD, so I see myself as a good subject for these types of tests. If the test matches my diagnosis, maybe it can shed some light on what’s going on in your head, too.

Mood music:

[spotify:track:4PSnQLK4uSmFfuZYEcXNUp]

The scale rates the magnitude of symptoms in OCD patients based on a series of multiple-choice questions. Half the questions focus on obsessions and the other half on compulsions. Here’s how the site defines the two:

Obsessions are unwelcome and distressing ideas, thoughts, images or impulses that repeatedly enter your mind. They may seem to occur against your will. They may be repugnant to you, you may are often senseless, and they may not fit your personality. For example, the recurrent thought or impulse to do harm to your children, even though you never would.

Compulsions are behaviors or acts that you feel driven to perform, even though you may recognize them as senseless or excessive. At times, you may try to resist doing them, but this may prove difficult. You may experience anxiety that does not diminish until the behavior is completed.

From personal experience, I’d say those are accurate descriptions.

Here are some of the questions:

  • How much do your obsessive thoughts interfere with functioning in your social, work, or other roles?
  • How much distress do your obsessive thoughts cause you?
  • How anxious would you become if you were prevented from performing your complusive behaviors?
  • How much control do you have over the compulsions?

The higher you score, the more of a basket case you are. I scored 17 out of a possible 40. The number was lower than I expected, but it makes sense. At just below 20, I’m less than half of a full basket case.

Were the questions valid? I’d say so. The test is set up to measure the degree in which obsessive or compulsive behavior has control over the person. It gives you a good sense of whether you have mild OCD, which I define as OCD the sufferer is able to manage and even make use of, or the severe variety that destroys your ability to get through the normal challenges of a day.

On the surface, my score tells me that the OCD is there, but I’ve learned to control it and keep the symptoms to a manageable level. I say on the surface because I answered the questions as honestly as I could, but I realize that some of my answers could be off. I took it during a moment of calm. Had I taken it in a more agitated or depressed state, the score probably would have been higher. Overall, though, I found it to be a handy measuring stick, better than some of the others I’ve taken.

So what should you do if you got a high score? As the site’s disclaimer notes, the people behind the site are not medical professionals and your score is not a medical diagnosis. But if you’ve been wondering if you have OCD and your score on this test makes you wonder all the more, a good next step is talking to a medical professional about your concerns. Start with your primary care physician or a licensed counselor.

You can also check out more online resources for OCD on our Help for Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder page.

Living with Obsessive-Compulisve Disorder