I often wonder if my imagination influences my OCD. Perhaps if it weren’t so vivid I’d have a better time of things. As it is, I envision all sorts of terrible events – earthquakes, car wrecks, explosions – all in an effort to keep them from happening.

The logic behind my OCD is illogical. Perhaps I’m a cynic or the OCD has hardened my thinking patterns, but I believe that no matter how vividly you imagine the future, it just won’t turn out the way you expect. Believe me, I’ve imagined earning millions, but it has yet to happen, though this might be a failure of drive or ambition.

At any rate, I believe that your future generally doesn’t turn out how you imagine. That’s where the car wrecks come in. My rituals are all about keeping my loved ones safe. I don’t want them to die in accidents or explosions, so I must imagine them dying in accidents or explosions. This is the ultimate in self-flagellation, or, as my Jewish forebears like to say, “So what else is new?”

All joking aside, this isn’t a particularly fun way to live. I prefer long walks on the beach. Unfortunately, the OCD brings forth tsunami-like waves to torture my neural circuitry. On the plus side, my symptoms have been manageable lately, and I’m often able to take solace in my imagination. It allows me to put together disparate ideas, which is at the essence of humor. Sometimes I can even laugh at my condition.