My OCD

Left. Right. Back.

Left. Right. Back.

Left pocket.

Right pocket.

Back pocket.

Phone, keys, wallet.

Often as I'm walking I catch myself.  What am I doing?  Make sure you didn't forget anything!

Left pocket.

Right pocket.

Back pocket.

Triple check.

But why do I continue checking?  Over and over.  In my head I know I got everything.  But my body involuntarily, I'd say unconsciously but at this point I'm fully aware of my actions, it unknowingly checks for the umpteenth time.  

Just. Stop. Why? Why?

Left pocket.

Right pocket.

Back pocket.

Phone, keys, wallet.

And this continues.

My OCD.

Until I'm in the company of a minority.  Then I'm able to stop.

My mind is able to shut it down.  I don't want the person to think I'm double checking that he didn't pick my pocket.  It ain't about that.  My concern over being seen as racist is not soothed, however.  Because the mere presence  of a minority put that concern in my head.  

I am ashamed.

And then I don't know what to do.  Do I prove to myself that it doesn't matter and proceed with my tick?  Or do I risk offending the unsuspecting person I'm accidentally making an example of?  Screw it.

Let. It. Go.

Left. Right. Back.

Left. Right. Back.

Oh no.  I made a show of it. In an unnatural, obvious way I checked myself.  Too late to correct.

Left pocket.

Right pocket.

Back pocket.

Phone, keys, wallet.

Damn.  I hope I didn't offend anybody that's actually diagnosed with crippling OCD.  But I've come to far.