I watched a movie a few weekends ago titled “Silver Linings Playbook”; it was pretty good but this isn’t a film review and I’m no Mark Kermode so I will leave it up to you to decide if you watch it. One of the characters in it played by Robert Di Nero is an NFL nut and borderline gambling addict running a bookie sideline and suffering from obsession-compulsion. His compulsions revolve around creating the right “juju” whilst watching his favourite team on TV, for “juju” read superstition or good luck charms.
It was made obvious in the film by his actions that he suffered an obsessive compulsion in relation to the way he watched his team – so why am I writing about this? The reason is that I found this perfectly normal as I suffer from my own “juju” habits when watching Celtic – come on, we all have them don’t we?
However I cover mine up and disguise them. You see I am seven years clear of my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder which gripped my life to a greater and lesser extent for a same amount of time. My compulsions were brought about by unwanted thoughts triggered by stresses in my life and thus by completing my compulsions I was counteracting these thoughts.
It would start mildly by having to say things under my breath for a set number of times; turning my pillow over 17 times before I put my head on it at night. It evolved into more obtrusive compulsions, I would be half way down the stairs then have the thought that if I didn’t go back up and start my descent again that someone close to me would be run down crossing the road – on occasions it took me half an hour to make it down. My eventual diagnosis was an anti-climax as I already knew what was wrong with me and during the period of treatment I would lie that I was getting better rather than go through with it any longer and became adept at hiding the compulsions, doing them at night as bedtime rituals or when no one was around.
I now have the disorder under control and don’t feel the need to combat negative thoughts with counter-actions as they aren’t there anymore but I know I will never be completely cured and that I run the risk of seeing them return. There is one element of my life where they do exist and where the negative thoughts come in to play albeit in a less consequential way and that is when watching Celtic.
It’s predominantly when watching Celtic on TV that they appear as somehow when I’m at the game I get this sense that there really is nothing I can do to influence the match. Watching them on TV is another ball game all together and my compulsions manifest themselves and develop on a game by game basis.
With OCD you know you are the one in control of the thoughts and the resulting compulsions are purely irrational but you do them anyway. It’s exhausting and never-ending and extremely embarrassing. An example of one that started off mildly but developed into one that was just plain ridiculous was when I read a newspaper. If my eye caught an article about someone then whether or not I was interested in it I had to read it all the way through until I found the ages of the people in the article and where they came from. This developed into me having to read every column inch of every story or report in any newspaper I came across whether at home or at work or I convinced myself a person close to me would be hurt. This was very time consuming and obtrusive in my life especially with the broadsheets! Eventually we had to stop bringing newspapers into the house.
The Champions League run has been the breeding ground for my compulsions whilst watching Celtic, however as a consequence you have me to thank for us getting to the last 16; at least that’s how my irrational mind works.
With OCD you believe you can actually influence and control outcomes of things that are out you’re your control and feel responsible when the outcomes of these things go against you. The way I had the objects set up in my living room and the people I had gathered around and seated in my living room was the reason we beat Spartak Moscow 3-2 away to record our first champions league away win. I did of course keep this to myself, the people in the room weren’t aware that I switched seats deliberately on the 55 th minute or that I moved the window blinds 3/4 of the way down on the 80 th minute.
Nor would they have noticed that instead of using the downstairs toilet during the first half and second half (twice) that I used the bathroom up stairs so that I could count the steps and confirm to my doubts that there were indeed 16 treads and risers and not 15. Because in my mind had I not done that Samaras would have headed over instead of finding the net to make it 3-2. As ridiculous as this reads and sounds it made perfect sense to me.
For the Barcelona match at the nou camp everything was in place, same people – same seats, the thank you card which had perched on the side table for four days was removed so that there was nothing different from the Spartak match (I had taken a photo of the room post match). First half completed and all was going to plan holding Barcelona 1-1 away, but then it happened the one thing that brought it crashing down, my son who is pre-school age was only allowed to stay up for the first half had been put to bed. I continued with my rituals; I moved seat ten minutes into the second half, the blinds, running up stairs but even as the clock ran down the messages I was getting was that something had changed and Barcelona would score as a result of it and the nature of the cruel defeat compounded this. I was drained and felt in my mind somehow responsible for the loss. Again this must sound incredibly stupid but it made perfect sense to me.
Going into the away game against benfica I had already decided we would lose this one and that we would go to the last game at Celtic Park needing to win and Benfica to drop points because this was (A) the Celtic Way and (B) Prime breeding ground for the ultimate in compulsions. However I kept things the same and again at half time we had the result we were looking for and again my son was off to bed and again we lost the match whilst keeping the rest of the compulsions going. My mind was running through everything and working out the stat that my son had a record of one away win and two away draws whilst watching the champions league and whilst this might be chance was I willing to take that risk?
Now you will recall that I had mentioned concealing all of the little habits and superstitions from those close to me as they would have recognised these as triggers for me returning to my old ways so I had to tread carefully in the lead up to the final game against Spartak at Celtic Park. I managed to gently persuade my wife over a few days leading up to the game that she should let my son stay up for the whole match with it being a special occasion and a one off match. As I would be at the match I was not going to be able to do the usual routines but I had narrowed it down to the most important factor being that my son watched the whole match - a point I reassured myself with when I texted four times during the first half and half time to make sure he was staying up.
The game for me was not one of enjoyment or pleasure until well after the final whistle as the stress of the game brought on doubts and thoughts that if it all went wrong I would be partly to blame for it. The false cheer from the crowd in the second half was a stressful point as I had agreed (with myself!) not to find out how the benfica game was going. When we got the penalty like Neil Lennon, I crouched down into a ball and put my hands over my ears as I didn’t want to hear the referees whistle blowing to take it. The rumble of the stand and noise penetrated my hands and I knew we had scored – not long to hang on now. Then a Huddle started from the GB section, moved along the Lisbon lions stand and up into the north stand where I sit, the game wasn’t over, the benfica game wasn’t over and as everyone turned to do the huddle the thought came – “If you do the huddle Benfica will score whilst you are doing it” and so I had to sit it out, I was the only one around not doing it and must have looked like a killjoy but I couldn’t dare go against the thoughts and take a chance. The final whistle at both games brought great relief – relief that we had made it through to the last 16 and relief that for now I could park up my compulsions until March at least.
Being at the match on Tuesday I felt no real anxiety as I was just happy we had got to the last 16 and was aware that we were coming up against a ruthless team – lets not forget they are the Italian champions and league leaders. I was satisfied that as a team we had performed to near our best and had played some really high temp passing and pressing. I actually felt more stress at the Helsingborg qualifier than the last 16 as the consequences of being knocked out were so great.
I am grateful that the only thing that seems to bring on my compulsions these days is critical Celtic matches and the fact that the worst outcome of this is we get beat and knocked out of a competition makes it totally manageable, unobtrusive and trivial compared to how it can take effect and impact on your life.
No comments:
Post a Comment