Covering my Ass

There seems to be some confusion about what my book “Masturbating with OCD” is about. Confusion I have perpetuated by not talking about it. Why I haven’t talked about it is that I want readers to draw their own conclusions. I want them to go by their own interpretation rather than what I say it is. However, I must acknowledge that the title and the cover photo seem to give the impression that the stories are solely of masturbation. Really, I chose that cover photo to be funny(because it’s a book of funny stories); and the title because, let’s face it, nobody knows who the hell I am and I have to rely on what could be considered “cheap tactics” to grab attention. Also, because the story of the same name is, I feel, probably one of the best things I have ever written. If this were an album, it would be my first single.
As of right now, the title and cover photo seem to be more of a turn off than an attention grabber. I guess that’s fine as it’s weeding out the people who could probably never handle my sense of humor anyway.
The book, even though I just said I didn’t want to go into its meaning but I guess I must, is about making the most of a bad situation. It’s about turning negatives into positives. It’s about taking control of your afflictions and making them work for you. Because if you have to live with them then you might as well, right?
Although I don’t consider myself a champion of mental health issues I wanted to talk about it in this book to possibly shed some light on the subject. I feel that disorders like anxiety, depression, OCD, and so on don’t get the full coverage they deserve, from any outlet, and the result is a public that misunderstands. Because of the misinformation I find that when I talk about mental illnesses I usually find there are three kinds of audiences: People who suffer and don’t even know, people who know they suffer but are made to feel ashamed or bad, and (my favorite) people who don’t understand, rely on pop culture anecdotes, and think mental illness is funny or, worse, not real. My sister once said to me, “can’t you just choose to be happy?”
I am not a professional. I have no medical education or expertise. In fact, what little education I do have on the subject comes from my own experiences in doctors offices and on therapist couches. I want to make it clear that I am just some guy who suffers from a variety of issues and has chosen to see the humor in it and write that shit down. Because I really do find my behavior and the situations my disorders get me in to be truly funny.
However, mental health is not entirely what the book is about. So don’t go looking at it like a self-help book. Which, by the way, “Masturbating with OCD” would be a terrible title for a self-help book. My book is mostly about me as 30-something, Hispanic, married homosexual who loves comics and sugar. OCD just happens to be there. Sleeping in the bed between me and my husband, or sitting in the passengers seat when I drive. It’s a part of me so of course it will be mentioned. And also, no matter how many pills I take, it refuses to ignored.
Aside from that, yes, my stories are a little bawdy but not vulgar. Never vulgar. I have never felt the need to defend or explain my sense of humor and really this is the only thing I will say about it. I don’t believe in toilet humor. I am better than that. Also, fuck you, if think I owed you an explanation or a defense of my sense of humor.
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