Computer OCD

For this entry, I'm going to go a bit off the beaten path and talk about something a bit more personal. Specifically, my computer OCD. I finally realised just how bad my obsessive/compulsive behaviour is regarding computers after my twelfth install of Windows in the past two weeks.

Wikipedia describes "obsessions" as "thoughts that recur and persist despite efforts to ignore or confront them" and that they "involve a general sense of disarray or tension accompanied by a belief that life cannot proceed as normal while the imbalance remains." And that's certainly true about the elaborate ritual I would undertake before installing Windows on my PC.

My particular obsession was the "cleanliness" and "purity" of the computer, both in the physical area surrounding the machine, and in regards to the Windows installation itself. Before I could begin the installation, I would ensure that the computer and the room in which the compute resided were spotless. And I mean spotless - every bit of dust wiped off, every bit of dirt vacuumed up, every finger smudge cleaned off, every bit of gunk on the mouse washed off, and so on. And once that was done, I'd open up the case, make sure every single power, data, and network cable was plugged in firmly, checking each one at least three times. And that's when the Windows installation could begin.

Except...well...it couldn't. At least not right away. See, I couldn't begin the installation at time other than a quarter hour (7:00, 7:15, 7:30, 7:45, etc.). If I did, the installation process would just feel "wrong" and I was lose all motivation to continue. So I'd wait until the time was right before powering on my PC.

Then the anxiety-filled process of installing Windows could begin. During the install process, I felt like I was being forced to ensure that every time I clicked a "Next" or "OK" button that I had placed the mouse pointer squarely in the middle of the button. I would spend several minutes checking and rechecking to make sure I was installing Windows to the correct hard drive (I only have two of them) and several more making sure that I had typed in my product key correctly. If anything went wrong with this process, I'd give up and start the whole bloody thing over again.

Provided I got the through the install process, then began the horrifying process of...installing Windows updates. If anything, I mean anything went awry during the process, such as Windows Update failing to connect to the update server, or an update failing to install, that was ground for immediately hitting the reset button and beginning the Windows install process all over again. I very quickly assembled a list of what updates to install in what order so that I could avoid any updates failing to install.

So let's say I managed to get through that. Then I had to set all the Control Panel options, double, triple, quadruple, quintuple, etc. checking each one to make sure I had set it correctly. Then it came to install applications, which was a nerve racking experience because I knew that if anything went wrong, and invariably something did, or at least something I felt was wrong. Finished installing a program and you try to delete the installer? Oops, and error message comes up saying the file's still in use and can't be deleted. ARRRGH, IT'S RUINED FOREVER!!! You may laugh, but that's the insidious thing about OCD - you recognise that your obsessions have no basis in reality, but you can't escape the feeling something is wrong if you don't carry out the corresponding compulsions.

It was just as bad for games, particular RPGs like Baldur's Gate. If I wanted to start a new game, I couldn't just start up the program, oh no. First I had to completely clean my hard drive of all unnecessary files (such as browser history), then defragment the hard drive three times (it had to be three times), and then restart the computer. Then, I had to run the game once in order to make sure it was fully cached, so that there would not be any stuttering of the introductory videos (any stuttering was grounds for starting over from the beginning). Once the game had begun, I felt like I had to click on the precise centre of each menu button, down the exact pixel, even going so far as to use the Mouse Keys feature of Windows to move the mouse pointer more precisely. I had to ensure that I paid attention to everything that happened in any video feels (including the developer logo movies); I could not take my eyes of the screen for a second. After all of this ordeal was done with, I could finally begin playing, provided I had not made any mistakes during the character creation process that would have required me to go back one screen.

Needless to say, I didn't get around to actually playing these games very often, or even being able to use Windows, given how often I reinstalled the damned thing. I've thoroughly familiar with the Windows 7 install process, let me tell you.

The thing is, I'm generally not like this regarding other things in life, it's only in regards to computers. And it's unpleasant as hell. Even the simplest tasks such as installer an image editing program become nerve-wracking affairs, with constant anxiety pangs every time you think something might have gone, every time you think a file somewhere deep inside Windows might have gotten corrupted somehow, even when you know something like that isn't possible. But through it all, I've learned some coping strategies:

Your mental state does not reflect reality. One of the reasons I kept reinstalling Windows over and over was the fear that somewhere, somehow, some file would become corrupted if everything did not go perfectly. But knowing how computers work, I knew that this sort of thing was extremely unlikely. I could calm myself just by taking deep breaths and saying "My thoughts do not reflect reality.

One time I was installing Paint.NET, and after the install had completed, I went to delete the installer file. But to my horror, Windows wouldn't delete the file, saying it was still in use. So in comes the catastrophic thinking: "Oh no! The installation is ruined! The Windows Registry will be corrupted!" Then I would tell myself, "Okay, what really happened? The install process completed successfully, so the installation couldn't have gone bad, and the error message was just Windows telling you that the installer program was still hanging around in memory." A second later, I was able to delete the installer program, meaning that it had finished doing whatever it needed to do and that absolutely nothing had gone wrong.

The more you succumb to OCD, the stronger it becomes. Every time I would declare my current Windows installation unworthy, it would make any subsequent installation attempt even more nerve-wracking. Worse, I'd often myself finding other things to obsess about during those follow-up installs. Eventually I just had to force myself to "plough through" the anxiety, telling myself, "You are NOT going through this rigamarole again!"

It WILL get better if you fight through it. Having to deal with using a potentially "unclean" Windows installation was horribly anxiety-inducing, but over time, the feelings of worry lessened. But as per the point I made above, you have to avoid succumbing to the compulsions. That's the only way out of it!

Windows Update is a bloody pain. Seriously, why does it take so damn long just to install some .NET Framework updates!!!???