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You’ve inherited a kingdom and you don’t have to send me money to take charge of it

When I was I kid I was pretty OCD.

Turning doorknobs 3 times, 12 times, 24 times, 17,634 times.

Jumping over cracks in the pavement.

Counting the words and letters on movie subtitles.

How many times I’ve chewed bites of food, how many times I’ve sipped from a glass of water, how many pages and words I’ve read out of a book.

Obsessive washing – of everything.

The works.

I can’t say I was troubled by it and my parents never suspected, but it all looks laughable in retrospect.

And it is.

Basically, the idea was that if I didn’t follow some number-based superstition, if I stepped into the wrong crack, if I made things less than perfect by some nonsensical arbitrary standard, bad things would happen.

It wasn’t some psychological disorder in the everyday sense of the words.

I was consumed by fear – of death, pain and change.

I was terrified. Not that life wouldn’t give me what I wanted, but that the future wouldn’t be like the past and the present. Which is a guarantee.

I was inventing superstitions and rituals in an attempt to gain control.

Classic Freud.

When I was about 8-9, I broke my desk lamp and cried for hours because I wouldn’t have the same desk lamp anymore.

There was nothing special about it.

Utter madness.

Until one day I decided not to care.

I had started reading Freud and understood where the rituals came from – attempting to maintain the illusion of control.

I had the same questions and the same things to fear, I wasn’t enlightened or anything, I didn’t get caught or do it out of shame.

I wasn’t become some Zen master.

I just decided it had to stop. No reason – just stahp.

So I did.

No parents. No shrinks. No pills.

And the world didn’t keel over. (OK, OK, maybe it’s keeled over a little bit since then.)

If a scared kid can take charge of his own mind, why couldn’t you?

In your mind, you make the rules.

That is your kingdom – by birthright.

Never forget this.

 

Your Daemon

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