The South African Society of Psychiatrists (SASOP) estimates that 1.2 million South Africans live with varying forms of obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD).

That means approximately two to three per cent of the population live with mild to severe symptoms, where disorder and interference with rigid daily routines threaten to derail sufferers on a psychological level.

With symptoms ranging from germaphobia, the intense need to have items perfectly aligned, persistent concern about safety, checking or repetitive counting, the disorder could have a debilitating effect on the sufferer as well as their loved ones.

Although causes of OCD are complex, genetics, brain differences, trauma and severe prolonged stress have been attributed to the development of the disorder.

Sitting under the canopy of sheltering trees as we enjoyed our Sunday afternoon summer ritual, my dad and I laughed as we compared notes about our “quirky tics”, which in our humble opinion keep the wheels from falling off.

At the age of 77, a former military conscript and a career quality assurer, my dad is dubbed ‘Mr checker-upper.’

His unique traits? He is like Santa – but instead of lists, he checks doors and switches twice, even thrice.

Me? I like order: “everything in its place and a place for everything.”

Tasks get done as soon as possible because “what’s done is done,” right?

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My sense of order often includes unpacking everything I need for a certain task and placing it in “order of appearance.”

Tasks are performed with a little jingle as directed by dear Mary Poppins: “In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun.”

I am the first to wave the OCD flag (albeit undiagnosed) with pride, proclaiming from my neatly aligned soapbox that eases my life.

Should the unexpected happen, tedious tasks such as selecting an outfit for work are handled. All I need to do is adapt to the unforeseen.

Describing the newest addition to my ‘silly obsessive behaviour’ left my dad slightly slack-jawed – something that does not happen often.

To put it mildly, I have become, let’s call it, fascinated with counting.

The perfect amount of pepper grinds needed to flavour a dish? Let’s stick to 20, why don’t we?

Amount of houses with dogs in our street? 15 thank you very much!

Steps from my front gate to the local shopping centre? 1 380 to be exact.

Amount of times do I turn a corner on a 5.3km morning jog or walk? 21 (and ooh, isn’t that a pretty number?).

Yip, I count everything and then recount to ensure I did not skip a beat – fun isn’t it?

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That is a hard no! As soon as I find myself counting, I patiently wait for myself to stop before launching into a lengthy scolding, which ultimately leads to me forgetting the sum of my tally, thus resulting in an auditor’s call for a recount.

I realise that I am making light of a serious condition which affects the lives of millions, leaving many feeling isolated and frustrated.

If left unchecked, OCD, or as many of us would prefer, CDO, can snake itself into your life, consuming every thought.

I am aware that my innate need to count depends on stress levels and emotional triggers of lived trauma.

In the rare moments when my jaw is unclenched, and my shoulders relaxed, the reliance on one, twos and threes lessens, leaving me to be in the moment.

The rest of the time, I go to the gym, zone out to the music, and allow myself to be consumed with training and leaving the counting for someone else.

Living life with the constant need to scrub, check, order and count is exhausting.

The South African Depression and Anxiety Group (SADAG) is standing by to assist; all you need to do is take the first step. You heard me, one step.

Call them on 0800 12 13 14, or send an SMS to 32312, and a trained counsellor will call you back.