The diagnosis...

Typically, I accept my issues as a part of life and do my best to make the most of them--but every once in an eternity an unavoidable issue surfaces. I've considered visiting a psychiatrist in the past, but quickly dismissed this idea by convincing myself that my problem isn't that serious. Just recently, however, I discovered a pamphlet entitled "Help for the Victim of Mental Insecurity and Peer Rejection Undergoing an Inadvertant Denial Phase." According to this document, I should admit that I have a problem (instead of diluting it) and face it "with the clear, loving help of an understanding and certified individual." I asked my friend what this meant, and she (with the strangest look!) told me to go see a doctor.

After recollecting my thoughts, I started to consider the idea. The pamphlet said that the first step to becoming a strong, confident, and self-secure individual was to "identify the problem." Easy enough--I have an obsession with detail. This is no doubt what I would be diagnosed with. I don't necessarily strive for perfection as a whole--as those who know me would be quick to inform you--but the slightest missarangement of obvious details has the potential to inflict anxious feelings of great urgency. My problem began in childhood, when my brother's block tower wasn't symetrical; continued through the trauma of junior high, (why didn't my eyebrows arch the same?); and still manifests itself today, (excuse me a moment--someone has evidently lost the proper cap belonging to my pen and has attempted to replace it with one of a different color.)
I'm certain my psychiatrist would have no difficulty in identifying this issue; especially after I've absent-mindedly polished his doorknob, straightened his rug, and adjusted his glasses--before calmly taking my seat. But then again--how does one correct such behavior? How is a higher standard for seemingly unimportant detail treated?

Besides--my problem isn't that serious.