Extract from chapter 7: O.C.D.

 

The curtains had to open in each room to a specific amount; the house rarely saw complete sunlight. Of course this was put down as my job as I tended to go to work after him. He would do his checks of course. As soon as he returned he noticed if something had not been done to his standard and I would get the abuse for my negligence.

The television had to always be switched off at the mains and not left on standby. As I had a T.V in my room it was something he would always check up on. The remote also had to be beside the television, not the sofa or table, for some reason this obsessed him more than other things. I knew it all linked to control.

The kettle had to be boiled away from the cabinets. They were wooden as most are in kitchens but he said the steam affected the wood. He would usually hover over me when I made tea.

Cleanliness played a large element in his disorder. He saw me as dirty, filthy. He condemned the way I lived yet he rarely cleaned; it was me who tidied the house often under his orders. The kitchen was a horror. The red tiles on the floor had become encrusted with dirt from over the years, dirt that had apparently come from me. It was impossible to clean as the engrained filth would not budge. If I ever asked him to hire a professional cleaner (he had the money to) he would accuse me of being lazy, that I never wanted to take any responsibility or that I just throw away money. Old bottles of sauce and packets of food had been left to decay over several years in the cupboards. Many a time he had told me to clear it but as most of the food was his it was something I point blank refused to do. Mould spores greatly affect my Asthma.

To this day those food items remain.

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