I have OCD.

But I’m also a mother, sister, ex-wife (and now girlfriend), lawyer, enthusiastic cook, moderately-successful gardener and happy head hen of my own flock of chickens.

OCD is common (1 out of every 100 adults) and treatable (70 percent experience benefits from standard treatment). But the average time between OCD symptoms and diagnosis is a staggering 14 to 17 years.

For me, it was more like 30 years.

Most readers will relate to some of what I do (double-checking to make sure the stove is really off). But those that see too much of their own lives in my experiences (driving miles out of the way to avoid a dead squirrel) could be saved years of torment if they are willing recognize themselves in my stories.

Really, folks. It’s not that bad. We all have our issues. Mine make me good at certain tasks, with a price. Your issues make you good at other things, presumably with a similar price. Good and bad. Ying and yang. Black and white.

These days, everyone shares a highly-edited, social-media approved portion of their little world. Vacation montages, selfies with friends, the perfect crème brulee at a trendy downtown restaurant. But let’s reveal the other parts of our worlds – the parts that are not filtered and picture-perfect. Let’s just see if that works out better. For all of us.

And I’ll go first.