I am not tired but my heart is tired

Mysophobia is hereditary.

When I was a child, I lived with my grandma. My grandpa passed away early, and my grandma became a loner at the age of 38. After the seven children she gave birth to each got married and started their own lives, grandma was the only one left. My mother decided to send me to my grandmother so that she could have a companion. Therefore, my childhood was both happy and sad. The happy thing was that my grandmother pampered me, but the sad thing was that I lacked the kind of family happiness that surrounds my parents. .

Grandma dotes on me to the heavens. It’s no exaggeration to say that I can open my mouth with food and stretch my hands with clothes. No matter how big a mistake she makes, she never hurts me. Only when it comes to hygiene, she is the best. She was determined not to indulge me. Although my grandma’s house was poor, it was clean and tidy. She bounced her little feet every day, never idle for a moment, wiping here and there. The tables, chairs and benches were not dusty, and I didn’t dare to put pencil shavings, paper Throwing crumbs and other things around, and the clothes, shoes and hats you are wearing are a little bit dirty, which will definitely lead to a scolding from grandma. Even if the new clothes are dirty one second, they have to be cleaned the next second. Grandma will not waste a moment. Seeing her so It was hard, and I had to walk on thin ice and be careful to keep my clothes clean and neat. When I was a child, I was a super cute, chubby little girl, very cute. Every time my grandma took me out to play, the aunts, uncles and aunts in the neighborhood loved me so much when they saw me. If they wanted to hug me, they would kiss me. Kiss me, but grandma flatly refuses! Grandma always told me quietly that I couldn’t hug them because their clothes had bacteria, and they had stinky mouths and they couldn’t kiss because of bacteria. My grandma lives in a rural area, but she never visits. If she goes to other people's houses to do business, she just stands at the gate, explains the matter clearly and then leaves. Even if someone warmly invites her to sit in the house, she will politely decline. Of course, there are very few people who can visit grandma's house. In my impression, only the fourth grandma next door occasionally comes to grandma's house to sit and sit. The two old ladies sit down and talk together. It is a very pleasant scene. But after seeing off the guests, grandma had to clean up and open the windows for ventilation. In fact, the fourth grandma knew that grandma had mysophobia, so she just sat on the corner of the sofa without moving the floor. But my grandma had this habit. In my opinion, if she didn’t perform such an operation, it seemed that she would not be able to cope with it mentally. Later I realized that this is called "germophobia". For example, no one else is allowed to wear grandma’s hats, scarves, gloves, shoes and socks, and other personal belongings. The combs for combing hair and towels for washing faces must be used separately from the children. This habit seems to be necessary today, but in the past, in rural areas where poverty had not yet been completely lifted. People are really not that particular, but my grandma has such advanced health awareness. Every New Year, grandma would never eat the rice dumplings, dumplings, balls, etc. given by her neighbors, but she was too embarrassed to refuse them. But at the same time, grandma would make delicious food herself. Sharing it with my neighbors, I once deliberately teased her, "If you despise the things made by others, what if they despise the things you make too?" Grandma would stubbornly reply, "The things I make are cleaner than theirs"! I can’t help but laugh and feel helpless! A little mysophobia has little impact on daily life. After all, maintaining hygiene is the basis for maintaining health, but too much mysophobia can easily cause trouble. Grandma’s seven children also inherited her habits to varying degrees. My uncles and aunts all have mysophobia, big or small, and they are more particular than normal people. Especially my aunt, we usually don't bother her. Every Spring Festival when we go to pay her New Year's greetings, we have to sit down according to the instructions and not move around. Otherwise, the aunt will be "tired to death" because she listens to her daughter. He said that a co-worker once came to visit. After the guest left, the sofa cushions and footrests where the guest had sat had to be washed. Even the thresholds and door handles that the guest had accidentally stepped on had to be scrubbed several times. ...Are you being alarmist? But it is indeed true.

In this case, I have been restrained and taught since I was a child, and I have been influenced by my ears and eyes. Will I also have a little bit of mysophobia? The answer is yes! In addition to not allowing others to touch my personal belongings, I also have a strong mysophobia when it comes to food.

Fruits and vegetables are cleaned more times than normal people, and pots, pans and other kitchen utensils are also cleaned meticulously. Maybe you will say that this is normal. Who is not so particular about hygiene? Only I know that I will put in a little more effort than normal people, so it’s not that I’m tired, it’s that I’m tired! At the beach, there are often buyers, workers, or friends. If we catch up for dinner, it is very common to invite them to have a casual meal together. But every time, I will throw away the chopsticks they used. It’s impossible to throw away rice bowls and plates after eating them once, so I rinsed them desperately. After a few times, I became smarter and bought several large packs of convenient chopsticks and tableware to prepare for uninvited guests. Some friends gave He conveniently had some grudges, but after the COVID-19 epidemic, they all understood.

Let’s talk about a joke-like episode, you all know about monkfish, right? In Dalian, this kind of fish is commonly known as toad fish. Its meat is fat and delicious. Once, my father bought one for us to eat. It was a large monkfish weighing eight or nine kilograms. I chopped it into pieces, washed and rinsed it. The blood vessels were also cleaned, and in the end, there was less than four kilograms left. It was only stewed in a small pot, and was told as a joke by the family for more than half a year! However, I am much better now. Teammate Pig always intervenes in time to stop the mysophobia in my life from developing further. It should be said that he is indispensable.

Going back to my mother-in-law's house every Spring Festival is a kind of torture, test and temper for my "little germophilia". Only I can understand the feeling of going crazy. But the miraculous thing is that if I help my mother take a bath, I won’t dislike her. Isn’t the family love of blood thicker than water too great?

The human world is not a vacuum, and bacteria are everywhere. "Mysophobia" "In fact, it is a kind of psychological burden, and too much is not enough! Although it has been dark and stumbling for nearly half my life, I am still working hard to live, including constantly making corrections and getting rid of my shortcomings and unreasonable tempers.