1,2,3. sh*t. that's my OCD.

In a world full of ugliness, desperation and people touching you with dirty hands, OCD became Tina's coping mechanism. Not your typical OCD of every day. Instead, it's the OCD that tangles inside your stomach and shows-up inside your head non-invited. She tries to hide her symptoms, for example touching things 3 times, but it's in her DNA and to her discomfort the world starts noticing it. But relax. It's a comedy. Fine, a tragicomedy.

A monologue full of 1, 2, 3's, changing from verse to prose and prose to verse where Tina deconstructs the reasons why and how she lives with this condition. In this short play we focus on the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder of violence and sexual abuse, which worsened this young girl's Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and developed it to a place where she didn't feel "normal".