A Retrospective. Every time I go to take a step forward, OCD shakes it’s germ-free finger and says, “Uh-uh. No no. You’re not ok, so anything you try to fix won’t be ok.” One thing about being officially diagnosed is you have to deal with people completely misunderstanding and misrepresenting what it actually means. Which, for someone like me, means you’re diminishing a huge part of who I am.  You like things clean? Cool.  Everyone has OCD tendencies. It’s not considered an actual diagnosis until it interferes and disrupts daily life.  Flashback to summer 1999.  It’s 80°, and I am wearing long sleeves, past my fingertips. I won’t touch anything…