Up the stairs, count the steps
1, 2, 3, 4
1, 2, 3, 4
1, 2, 3…
Crap, it didn’t come out even, it’s eleven
But 1-2-3-4-1/ 2 /3-4-1-2-3 will have to do; the middle is two
Plus 11 is prime, so that’s something
At book club, as with any circled gathering, the circle goes clockwise from my left:
1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – me
becomes
4-5-6 (me) 1-2-3
Once I’ve calculated the delicate balance, once the gathering is complete, my mind can focus fully on the book we just read – wait, the meeting is over already? What was the book about again?
I knew our last house was perfect, because it was exactly 16 steps up from the basement. (I have been known to climb two steps at a time to make the sequence work out into even groups.) But my therapist’s office was 20, at least an even number.
This new place has 20, too. 5 x 4 will have to do.
© 2024 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For What’s Going On, Mary asked us to write a poem based on numbers. This hit home for me because the main part of my OCD is counting, specifically grouping to the point of anxiety. I know most people don’t number pavement or floor tiles as an extreme sport. Example: If there are alternating colors in striped tiles down the hallway, I not only count them; I make sure the number of steps per group are the same all the way down the hall. Three wide stripes can equal five steps, and a break in that pattern will annoy me, even if only for a moment. Anxiety is at its heart.
This used to cause me all sorts of trouble in school. How could I be expected to pay attention to the teacher when she just put up a new cardboard cutout balloon display and I had to find the center balloon, then group and number balloons by color (to determine which color won), etc. etc. I barely passed high school.
It’s exhausting, time consuming, non-productive. One of the many ways my mind deals with anxiety. Let’s hope I can find enough peace in 2024 that I don’t start, you know, counting the hairs on my arms. Or the beats of my heart. Cuz if that happens, I’ll never make it off the couch.
Amy
Sharp Little Pencil 
Mary
Amy, this really was intriguing and definitely had me thinking. I will be counting steps from now on! Smiles.
Sharp Little Pencil
Mary, I pray you are spared that fate!! It is maddening, even embarrassing at times, but you know me,. The art of the confessional blog: spill it all out and we can clean it up later.
Eileen O'Neill
Amy, extremely interesting and totally in keeping with a numeric poem…I think it’s akin to those who hold various ways about avoidance of stepping onto cracks in the pavement, avoiding going out at certain times of day and traits about following a hard and fast rule…avoiding certain dates too..you have detailed your response really well..
Sharp Little Pencil
Eileen, yes! There is a certain linear trait to this. The only way I can exert even a bit of control is by harking back to mindfulness. But man, when my anxiety is high… Thanks!
Pearl Ketover Prilik
Amer love your brilliant take on the counting
Sharp Little Pencil
Pearl Girl, nice to read you again, too! It is relentless, OCD. I reread my post and realized that, although the whole thing sounds like I’m nuts, the truth is, the OCD is nuts. Not me, the OCD. Honestly!!!
fireblossom32
My goodness, that sounds like a prison of one’s own devise, though I realize that it is involuntary. It has to be exhausting. The part about the book club, really concentrating and then missing it all anyway, was telling.
Sherry Marr
I love the realness of this poem and understand the counting comes from anxiety, which the world is becoming familiar with, sadly, in its current state. An intriguing response to the prompt, and so original. The balloon counting made me realize how hard school must be for someone trying to make numbers balance. I relate as these days, my sense of justice is outraged daily and there is no way to make things balance. Sigh.
drpkp
I’m back … I was responding on my phone which was not cooperating. I looked at your poem and immediately thought of a counting coping… and then read it again thinking that my own devolvement earlier into off the track thinking had me biased… but nooo… it is true.. a brilliant poem that so clearly delineates the comfort and the compelling of the counting. Terrific Amer! Hugs!
Rajani Radhakrishnan
Amy, I can see from your strong poem and informative note how challenging it must be with OCD.. thanks for making me more aware of what is involved.
susanstoo
Brilliant. You took me there!
Sumana Roy
Never thought numbers could be so dangerous as to capture one in its maze. Amy, this is never ending until one knows the way out. Chilling. I am amazed that you’ve turned it into a poem and have taken us into the mystery.
Suzanne
Thanks for sharing your story. It must be annoying to always be counting. One of my hobbies is beading. Often that involves counting but once I’ve worked out the design there is no need to count the beads. Trying not to count them as I thread them can be a real challenge though. I find myself counting needlessly. It drives me distraction sometimes. That gives me a little insight into your dilemma. I hope you can find a way to count less. 🙂
abigfatcanofworms
Hi Amy, thanks so much for sharing your story of your struggles with OCD. I never really understood anything about OCD until very recently when I heard a woman interviewed on a podcast. It must be so hard not to let it control your life. Your poem is wonderful.. a little keyhole view into the world as you experience it. I hope 2024 is a good year for you. Kind regards, Jo
dore2390
https://www.spellingbeeanswers.us/
alan1704
This was fasinating and left more questions than answers. Well done
The Cheesesellers Wife
Thank you Amy, for this wonderful insight into your experience. My husbands OCD appears relatively mild- but after 18 months of bereavement and other family crises- it is back. He needs things to be lined up straight and regular.
dorahak
This is so eye-opening, how anxiety plays itself out in our different experiences. Going down the rabbit hole of OCD seems frightening as the mind tries to adapt to each new situation, each new cause of worry. Thank you for this poem raising awareness for what you’ve shown to be an unwieldy coping mechanism. Praying for plentiful and continuous peace for you and all of us in 2024.
Woih
I count everything. Light poles, stop signs (the pole gets 1, the sign gets 2…because it feels right).