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“Clean” a short story

I find it difficult to tolerate messes and messy people. I’m not sure when this started, but recently I’ve become a major germaphobe. When the people around me make the smallest messes, I get really disgusted. I get really annoyed. I examine and scrub dishes multiple times until they are extremely clean. I can’t go to bed unless my whole house is spotless. I often find myself awake trying to mop my kitchen or wipe down the counters with a disinfectant before 1:00 am. This has become a part of my nightly routine. I hate cleaning. I hate cleaning, but I do so anyways because I don’t like the way others clean. I used to easily share food with my closest friends and siblings, but now the though of putting my lips on the same cup or spoon that someone else used is horrifying. I throw a fit when people touch me. You never know where someones hands have been. I wash my hands so often that seeing the skin peel from my fingers has become a normal sight. I scrub both my teeth and body so aggressively that seeing my gums bleed, or seeing my light brown skin turn red, has become a normal sight. When the people around me cook for me, it is very hard for me to accept what they make. I wasn’t around to see how the pots and pans looked before they started cooking. I wasn’t around to see how clean the dishes were before they plated the food, so how can I accept it? I hate it when anyone (besides myself) sits or lays on my bed. I have to throw my sheets into the washer immediately.

I wonder when simply trying be a tidy person turned into an obsession. Since when did I become so meticulous about hygiene? Maybe it started when my mother forced me to wash and rinse each dish 3 times every night after dinner. Maybe it started when I was woken up and told to mop the kitchen every night by my mother who arrived home from work around 1:00 am. Perhaps this obsession began when my mother made negative comments about my teeth and skin and told me I was infested with germs at a young age….
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