Cognitive Behavioral Experiment

I recall the first impression I had of my new behavioral therapist is that he reminded me of Ichibod Crane, the main character in the “Headless Horseman.”  He was tall, thin, and had an angular facial structure.  He rarely smiled and it seemed to me he acted like a smile would crack his skin texture.    He led me to his office and immediately asked me about my OCD behaviors.

“Which behavior bothers you most?” He asked his pen poised in the air ready to writer down my answer.

  Which behavior bothered me the most?  Frankly, they all bothered me.  Which to choose, I wondered?  After some consideration, I chose a compulsion I’ve had for many years which is the “need” to rip toilet paper exactly along the perforated edges before using it.  If I did not tear it exactly on the edge or I ripped or tore it I would “have to” repeat the process until I got it just “right.”  At times I was lucky and got it “right” on the first few tries, however, other times, depending on the quality of the toilet paper itself I could take up to half a roll of paper in one bathroom session.  Personally, I like two-ply because it is stronger and easier to tear correctly, I would love to see them come up with a commercial for that one. 
Lately, this issue had been an area of contention between my then live in boyfriend and myself.  Although he was aware I had OCD, he still found it hard at times to understand some of my rather eccentric behaviors.  Toilet paper usage was definitely one of those behaviors that baffled him to no end.  He could not understand why we used up several rolls of paper in the period of a couple of days. In all fairness I did try to explain, I really did.  But his response was to shake his head and mutter under his breath, he did that a lot. 

           So I chose my toilet paper ripping behavior. 

  The therapist nodded his head and stated, “ Let’s begin with a anxiety reduction exercise, shall we?”

I nodded; he continued on, “ I want you to imagine you are sitting on the toilet now.”

I sighed, “You mean right now, we just barely met and you want me to imagine myself half naked and exposed in front of you. I’m not sure I can do that.”

  He chose to ignore my response either out of plain lack of sympathy or deciding I was being sarcastic and continued on.

  “I want you to imagine you getting ready to tear the toilet paper but rather than tear it I want you to think of the word SMOOTH.”

  He tried to use a voice tone that was as soooothing as possible in a way that I guess I was supposed to find relaxing.

  You know” I replied, “Can we use another word? I really don’t like the word SMOOTH.”

  “Well I suppose you can use whatever word you want but for the sake of this exercise lets just use this word for now, shall we?” 
 
Again I nodded, reluctantly consenting.

  He continued, “By visualizing the word SMOOTH in your head you are going to try and redirect your irrational thoughts that something terrible is going to happen if you do not tear the toilet paper exactly right.  I want you to go home, sit on the toilet and practice this exercise a few times. All right?” 

  Was he kidding?  I was mortified.  How can I go home and follow his instructions.  I felt humiliated and embarrassed, a fact that I neglected to mention to my therapist.  So I went home and did nothing. 

  I returned the next week and my serious looking therapist asked me how my exercise went.  I glared at him and he stared back at me patiently.  In that instant I made a decision.  I could continue to fight him or I can work with him to help myself.  Rather reluctantly I told him then truth.

  I went shopping after my session and stocked up on toilet paper.  The whole time I was at the grocery store I argued with myself  internally finding reasons to not comply with the homework my therapist had given me.
         
    “This is stupid,” I argued with myself, “I am not going home, sit on the toilet and think the word smooth.  I hate that word. No, I abhor that word. I will not do this, I won’t.”

  I had this inner argument all the way home from the store and as I was putting away my groceries. 

    Than suddenly, it happened.  I felt the stirrings of the first urges to pee.
         
  “Hell,” I thought to myself.  I was not going to allow this control freak therapist manipulate my personality.  I am just simply going to hold it.  Well, I tried for a while but eventually nature won and I found myself in the bathroom.  I followed natures way and relieved myself,  than paused starring at the toilet paper roll that hug ominously to the side me on the holder.

  “What the f***, “ I thought, “no one else will know but me.”  Slowly my hand approached the paper.  I hesitated a second than steadily pulled down the paper on the roll and gently tugged. 

  Damn, I thought it’s not right.’  I reached out to pull again than stopped myself.  I closed my eyes and thought the word “smooth”  I tried to picture the word as Dr. Icabod Crane had asked me to. 

  “Smooooooth,” I thought to myself.  I repeated the word over and over in my head.  However, the more I thought the angrier I became.  I took more of the roll and began tearing and tearing and tearing until my full roll of toilet paper had only half a roll left.  I than tore the roll of the holder and threw it.  I was furious.  No, I was not only furious I was also embarrassed. 

“Why me?” I wondered.  I was standing next to the toilet, my pants down, tears running down my cheeks and starring daggers at the innocent roll of  toilet paper lying on the bathroom floor.  Eventually I got calmed down, pulled my pants  up and picked up the roll from the floor and placed it on top if the toilet.  I left the bathroom.

It was  several hours later that I realized I had not bothered to notice whether the edges on the paper had been torn off “right.”

  Grudgingly I returned to this behavioral therapist for several more sessions and slowly I began to feel less “stupid” about practicing my homework.  I came to accept the process and rebelled less.  After time I actually felt like I was conquering the beast.

Now many years later I save a hell of a lot of money on toilet paper!