Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD):


A condition that is characterized by the presence of obsessions and/or compulsions. Obsessions are recurrent, intrusive thoughts usually irrational worries that often necessitate behaviors to prevent untoward consequences (e.g., fears of contamination from dirt requiring the individual to wear gloves at all times). Compulsions are recurrent behaviors that the individual feels compelled to undertake which are beyond what are considered normal, usually to preserve personal safety, to avoid embarrassment, to perform adequately (e.g., checking multiple times to see that the gas is turned off before leaving home).

In the Interest of Understanding

Dear Readers:

In the interest of understanding, I’d like to draw your attention to the phrase in the above correspondence which Mathilde illegally posted on my blog: “It’s so rarely that I am able to escape my own head.” This statement epitomizes Mathilde’s affliction, which is characterized as a type of megalomelancholia.

In the beginning of our relationship, I sympathized with these feelings, even encouraged them, as I felt they were a healthy appraisal of the philosophical idea of solipsism , an idea which it is impossible to refute. What I began to realize, however, is that this attitude was a sign of mental illness.

Please note I attribute my inability to perform a certain function to the slovenly nature of Mathilde’s flat. Before the function in question was to be performed, I had stepped on a cockroach in my bare feet. This, and the fact that she was wearing her communion veil.

TO: Rodrigo Weiss
FROM: Mathilde Bagnoire
DATE: 05/11/98
SUBJECT: Last night


Rodrigo—

Please don’t be ashamed about last night. Your grief is wholly warranted, and a logical result of these exciting times. I was honored to be there to help you through it. It is so rarely that I am able to escape my own head.

Mathilde


TO: Mathilde Bagnoire
FROM: Rodrigo Weiss
DATE: 05/12/98
SUBJECT: My failure


Mathilde—

I have never failed in this capacity before. I have always found myself able to perform. I don’t know where those feelings came from. All of these years I kept my family’s things in storage. I didn’t want to look at them because I didn’t want to be sentimental. I didn’t cry much—my grandmother cried enough for us both, and I often found it embarrassing and even suspected it might be false. I don’t know why now should be the time for me to suffer this sudden access of emotion.



TO: Rodrigo Weiss
FROM: Mathilde Bagnoire
DATE: 05/12/98
SUBJECT: Your failure

Rodrigo—

I know you’re confused by your feelings, and possibly a little frightened. I am confused, too—but remember how you felt when you were able to help me through my melancholic episode? I am here to help you as well.

Mathilde

Hot Sauce

The hot sauce does not appear to be working, despite the fact that I have slathered it along every available surface. I am desperate.

Last night I had a vision of the Black Rock. I saw it standing in a dark cavern, outlined by red lights, with thousands of rodents swarming around it in a frenzy. The rodents were howling -- a high-pitched, unearthly howling which threatened to undo my sanity. And yet I was drawn to it with all the memory in my genes. I couldn’t look away even though I felt myself being consumed.

When I woke, I was sitting at my desk at the office. It was well past 11:00 p.m. and everyone had gone home. My fingers were still perched over the computer keyboard.

TO: Rodrigo Weiss
FROM: Mathilde Bagnoire
DATE: 05/06/98
SUBJECT: The veil

Rodrigo—

I am troubled and disappointed that I found you rooting around in my closet last night, but even more so that you responded so violently on finding my veil. Did you think it was a bridal veil? That perhaps I was preparing for our wedding? Or that I had been married before? Or did you know it as from my First Communion, which I was never able to celebrate? You know I’m not religious, but Doctor Brandauer, in the course of my treatment, advised me to make a clean break with my troubled childhood by keeping only one memento. I thought I might wear it for you so you could understand where I came from. I can see now you’re not ready for that revelation.

Mathilde


TO: Mathilde Bagnoire
FROM: Rodrigo Weiss
DATE: 05/07/98
SUBJECT: The veil

Mathilde—

I admit the thought crossed my mind that you were indulging in fantasies of marriage, when I thought we had agreed that commitments of any sort would only be detrimental to our relationship. I must admit the veil also reminded me of my upbringing and the painful memories associated with it.

Rodrigo

TO: Rodrigo Weiss
FROM: Mathilde Bagnoire
DATE: 05/07/98
SUBJECT: The veil

Rodrigo—

We don’t need to speak the words if you’re not ready.

Mathilde

Rodents in a Trap

I have finally taken one of the rodents – which I caught with a trap, rather than poison – placed it carefully in a plastic bag to avoid contamination, and compared it to a picture in a book – it is, in fact, a vole. It now makes perfect sense that the poison does not work on them.

Thank you, erthwsdm, for providing me with that helpful bit of information. However, I am still at a loss as to how to alleviate the problem.

Everything Out In The Open

Perhaps erthwisdom is right -- perhaps it is best to get everything out in the open.

Mathilde, do you remember the euphoria of those first days together?

Why do you persist in antagonizing me? Did we not get some joy from each other?

TO: Rodrigo Weiss
FROM: Mathilde Bagnoire
DATE: 03/16/98
SUBJECT: Broomhandle

Rodrigo—

The connection you mention is one I have long dreamed about as well, and just as long thought impossible. When I had my accident as a child and was in the hospital for so many long years, I felt that I would never find a connection with another human soul. I so often feel divorced from my body, but with you inside me I know that it is real. If only Broomhandle could fly into my mouth, ending the painful separation between us both! The days are too long without you. I want a tiny version of you that I can keep in my pocket.

Mathilde

To: Mathilde Bagnoire
From: Rodrigo Weiss
Date: 03/15/98
Subject: This feeling

Mathilde—

I never knew that this sort of feeling existed. I have had relationships in the past, but have never felt such an intensity. I feel as if I am about to leap off the precipice, but in the full knowledge that I can fly.

Rodrigo


TO: Rodrigo Weiss
FROM: Mathilde Bagnoire
DATE: 03/15/98
SUBJECT: My feeling


Rodrigo—

Having your company for the night was the surest proof that I am actually alive. I have never felt this much a part of the world.

Mathilde


TO: Mathilde Bagnoire
FROM: Rodrigo Weiss
DATE: 03/16/98
SUBJECT: Broomhandle


Mathilde—

Nor have I. I want to hold you all day and night, and feel your cool flesh against mine. When I was a boy, I dreamed about connecting in this way with a woman. I spent much of my time inventing stories about my alter ego, Sir Roderick, and his love the Lady Madeline, who was imprisoned in a coffin of glass. I know, I know, it sounds a lot like Sleeping Beauty—but to my credit, there was no dragon—just an evil witch. And the only way the coffin could be opened was for the Lady Madeline to open it from the inside, so Sir Roderick sent his pet dragonfly Broomhandle through the keyhole to whisper the magic words in the Lady Madeline’s ear. Sometimes the witch captured Roderick as well, and Broomhandle would have to fly through the keyhole of his glass coffin and out into the forest to the witch’s castle where the Lady Madeline was imprisoned. In one particularly inspired variation, Broomhandle had to sacrifice himself for the love of his master by flying into the Lady Madeline’s mouth and becoming the magic words she was required to speak.

I later tried turning these stories into a children’s book, but the publishers to whom I submitted the manuscript felt that its themes were too adult. I include for your amusement the illustration of Broomhandle flying into the Lady Madeline’s mouth, and an “outtake”, from a version in which Sir Roderick first attempts to get the Lady Madeline to say the magic words through a game of charades.

Rodrigo

More Disappointing News

Dear Mr. Weiss –

Re: your most recent submission to The Learning Annex teaching pool. I’m sorry you found our standard rejection letter misleading. Let me state clearly and personally that we are not offering classes in any sort of zombie history at this time. Zombies do not exist. Please refrain from submitting another proposal. If you are interested in participating in one of our mental health seminars, I would be happy to provide you with a discount code (I think you could really use some help). Otherwise, the next time you have an urge to send us a packet of your “materials and research,” go to the nearest tall building and take a flying leap.

Sincerely,
Liz Baker
Assistant to the Executive in Charge of Submissions

I choose not to lose my faith in humankind, but to instead believe that this is the work of a bored young woman, perhaps in an argument with her boss, or smarting over being rejected from the English Department at UCLA yet again. I shall submit another application soon, to another department, and press on with my quest to share my research with a larger audience.

The Price of Progress

A sad note to report: Botanica Mystere, that wonderful shop run by Esperanza McNunn (noted in an earlier entry) has been boarded up, along with The Juice Fountain. Apparently, they are building some sort of hotel complex in the area.

I hope the merchants fare well in their new homes.

Another Solution

I have been advised that mice avoid hot sauce.

Of course this made for a rather comical scene at the grocery store, as I pushed a cartful of Tabasco, Cholula, Tapatio, and something called “Mad Iguana” through the aisles, explaining to curious onlookers that it was for my mice.

Sometimes the most vexing problems can provide us with a bit of levity.