EDITOR’S NOTE: Over the past year on Tuesdays, noted Tourette Syndrome advocate Troye Evers has shared his “52 Weeks of TS” blog journal with the TSParentsOnline community. This is the LAST week of this series, so there’s a chance you missed one or more entries from his exciting, revealing journey. You can read all of them here. For more information about Troye, please click on his name or visit his website.
Is it really here? Have we reached the 52nd week of this series? From doctor appointments to social events, from new tics to new jobs, I have expressed it all and I have learned and grown from the whole experience. I’m sad that I have reached the end, but excited for what will come in the future.
But I’m still led to ask, “Why do I do this to myself?” Why are there certain occasions that I still let fear and embarrassment rule my life and cause me to be this untrue version of myself? The answer is easy, it’s those judging eyes. It’s much easier when you’re dealing with a one on one situation, but when you have a room full of people looking at you, staring at you, judging you, it can be hard.
It brings me back to my school days, sitting in the classroom and having all my peers and teacher looking at me. The only difference now is that I have an explanation. I know what to say to someone who asks that dreaded question, “Why are you doing that with your head?” but there is still that fear of people asking.
The rest of the week went well, but just more running around and very little time to rest. Besides working, I also was planning a dinner for my co-workers. I have OCD, and for some reason I think it would be a good idea to invite 10 people over to my house for dinner. Do I really want 10 people walking around my safe zone, spreading germs, making messes, and moving and touching my stuff?
Well, I guess it’s too late. I opened my big mouth. Having a dinner party with this amount of people takes a lot of planning and organization, which is fine with my OCD and anxiety disorder. However, did I really need to set the table a week before the party? Yep, a week before hand. My husband questioned me about why I set it so early and I explained to him that I did not have time during the week to do it. Really? The truth is I’m OCD. I had to set it up early enough so I would know it was perfect. Everything had to be in the right place, and I needed to make sure it was all organized correctly.
Despite all my OCD’s the dinner went very well. Normally with an event like this, I would have asked everyone to take off their shoes as not to spread the germs of the NYC streets all over my apartment, but I was not able to do this. About 30 minutes before everyone arrived, my husband shattered a glass top to a casserole dish. The glass flew everywhere. Besides the kitchen, I found glass in the hallway and living room. We tried to clean it all up, but I knew there still might be a piece somewhere. Now the decision has come. I would much rather the germs of NYC in my apartment than the chance of someone’s blood.
How does my mind go to this extreme? Am I really OK with dirt from the streets on my floor, but not blood? I mean I could always mop the floor and sanitize them to clean up the dirt, but what if the blood touched me? OK, I know it sounds insane, but for me blood leads to death. What if someone has some deadly disease and they cut themselves and then I cut myself? OK, it doesn’t sound insane, IT IS INSANE!
Basically, what I’m saying is that a broken glass in the kitchen will lead to my death. Are you kidding me? I know I need to calm down about some things, but this is how I am. Everyone came over and we had a delicious meal (and everyone kept their shoes on, so I’m glad to say the grim reaper will not be making a stop at place anytime too soon.)
As I reached the end of the week, I reached the end of this series. It’s been a wonderful year, and I achieved my resolution. I reached out to so many people and educated many of them. I opened my mouth and through my words, I learned more about myself. I think my resolution for the year to come is to not be afraid. To be myself.
The end.
