The point of this film is that Phoebe can't control her behavior. She suffers from congenital obsessive-compulsive disorder. This is completely different from ordinary obsessive-compulsive disorder.
First of all, she knew the time of her interview. She knew that she was going to be late for the interview. She still had to wash her hands until she bleeds, because she felt that she could not go to the interview before washing her hands. Don't you have such experience in your daily life? When doing something very important, I feel unprepared no matter how to prepare. But the difference between Phoebe and normal people is that she washes her hands until she bleeds, which is a range that normal people will not reach. Some people may ask, what is the relationship between hand washing and interview? Yes, this is the difference between obsessive-compulsive disorder patients and normal people. No matter how nervous a normal person feels he is not ready, he still does something related to that important thing. People with obsessive-compulsive disorder will do things that seem irrelevant or even meaningless. Phoebe has been worried about losing the role of Alice after hearing the word fired, even though she is widely regarded as the best acting actor. She proves that she will not be fired by formulating various meaningless regulations for herself and completing them. When I was in junior high school, every time I was doing housework, I always felt that I hadn’t cleaned the dishes when I was doing housework, and I felt that there was always a drop of water that I didn’t wipe when I wiped the water. I didn't wring out the rag, so I didn't get the first place. When I was in kindergarten, I also had serious fantasies. I wondered if my family was really my family, or wanted to make me pretend to be my family all the time. Every time Phoebe spit on someone, they were actually the first to provoke her. When I was in elementary school, I also scratched people because of other people's teasing (the severity can make the mother of the scratched child come to me), but I really didn't mean it. I couldn't control the severity of my actions. I am Unconscious. I have always felt that those behaviors are unconditional or conditioned reflexes of my rush. Phoebe kept stepping on the grid and jumping up the stairs. Her mother asked her why she was doing these meaningless things and what would happen if she didn't do it. I have done many, many things like this repeatedly, not allowing myself to step on incomplete grids, but only in the middle, otherwise I have to do it all over again. Sometimes I even get angry and anxious or even lose my temper because someone interrupts me. When I was in elementary school, I threw leaves at the face of my cousin's friend who was in high school. I knew it was impolite, but in my fantasy, I felt that I should do it. This was a test of her friend. I grabbed the poster selected by other little girls in the shop. I don’t know why I was like this. I subconsciously snatched it from her hand and said that I wanted this one. Why do I have the courage to do that? I am usually a timid and weak person. exist I kept hitting the wall with my head on the bed. Although there was some pain, I felt that it was within my acceptable range. When I was learning to write in the first grade, I used an eraser to write a word once, and even cried anxiously. The vocabulary at the end of the text has never been filled, because I feel that it is not well written, and no matter how I write it, I can’t achieve exactly the same good words as in the book. It was not until the Chinese teacher said in front of the class that my handwriting was the best written in the class, and I realized that my original writing was not bad. The same thing happened in the first year of junior high. The English teacher said that my workbook is the best in the class, every class hour is full marks, and the English is the most neatly written. I didn't expect it at that time, I think What I wrote was not good, because I just transferred to the class, and I rushed all the English homework in one fell swoop. I did it in a hurry. There is no perfection in this world, and there is no perfection in the world of obsessive-compulsive disorder. The third grade physical examination is counted as the middle school entrance examination. My sitting posture is already full of scores, but I still have to practice constantly, pulling the ligament hard every night, and grabbing my calf when it hurts, until my nails are embedded in the flesh, and my legs are broken and bleeding. , In order to transfer the pain of the ligament. I kept repeating one thing, one small thing, until I realized that normal people are not like this, so I stopped. Phoebe can't, she can't control herself to stop. I keep washing my hands, not to wash the bleeding, she will. I know that I will behave abnormally under certain circumstances, so I avoid all conflicts, which leads to the fantasy of conflict with others, fantasy that I am quarreling with others, fantasy that I lose my temper, and throw things. I have also jumped from a very high place to see how high I can accept the jump, and shut myself in a very small closet to see if people will die without air. I have thought about a hundred ways to die, but in the end it will stop. Go over the railing by the school lake to see if you can walk on the frozen lake. However, the above are all implemented within the range I think is safe. Except for stepping on the frozen lake, which was done not long ago, everything else was done when I was very young. I can do one thing over and over again, telling an endless looping story, but I also force myself to stop. I can control it. Phoebe can't, she can't control herself, I think this is the greatest sorrow of a congenital obsessive-compulsive disorder patient. Achieve the same good words as in the book. It was not until the Chinese teacher said in front of the class that my handwriting was the best written in the class, and I realized that my original writing was not bad. The same thing happened in the first year of junior high. The English teacher said that my workbook is the best in the class, every class hour is full marks, and the English is the most neatly written. I didn't expect it at that time, I think What I wrote was not good, because I just transferred to the class, and I rushed all the English homework in one fell swoop. I did it in a hurry. There is no perfection in this world, and there is no perfection in the world of obsessive-compulsive disorder. The third grade physical examination is counted as the middle school entrance examination. My sitting posture is already full of scores, but I still have to practice constantly, pulling the ligament hard every night, and grabbing my calf when it hurts, until my nails are embedded in the flesh, and my legs are broken and bleeding. , In order to transfer the pain of the ligament. I kept repeating one thing, one small thing, until I realized that normal people are not like this, so I stopped. Phoebe can't, she can't control herself to stop. I keep washing my hands, not to wash the bleeding, she will. I know that I will behave abnormally under certain circumstances, so I avoid all conflicts, which leads to the fantasy of conflict with others, fantasy that I am quarreling with others, fantasy that I lose my temper, and throw things. I have also jumped from a very high place to see how high I can accept the jump, and shut myself in a very small closet to see if people will die without air. I have thought about a hundred ways to die, but in the end it will stop. Go over the railing by the school lake to see if you can walk on the frozen lake. However, the above are all implemented within the range I think is safe. Except for stepping on the frozen lake, which was done not long ago, everything else was done when I was very young. I can do one thing over and over again, telling an endless looping story, but I also force myself to stop. I can control it. Phoebe can't, she can't control herself, I think this is the greatest sorrow of a congenital obsessive-compulsive disorder patient. Achieve the same good words as in the book. It was not until the Chinese teacher said in front of the class that my handwriting was the best written in the class, and I realized that my original writing was not bad. The same thing happened in the first year of junior high. The English teacher said that my workbook is the best in the class, every class hour is full marks, and the English is the most neatly written. I didn't expect it at that time, I think What I wrote was not good, because I just transferred to the class, and I rushed all the English homework in one fell swoop. I did it in a hurry. There is no perfection in this world, and there is no perfection in the world of obsessive-compulsive disorder. The third grade physical examination is counted as the middle school entrance examination. My sitting posture is already full of scores, but I still have to practice constantly, pulling the ligament hard every night, and grabbing my calf when it hurts, until my nails are embedded in the flesh, and my legs are broken and bleeding. , In order to transfer the pain of the ligament. I kept repeating one thing, one small thing, until I realized that normal people are not like this, so I stopped. Phoebe can't, she can't control herself to stop. I keep washing my hands, not to wash the bleeding, she will. I know that I will behave abnormally under certain circumstances, so I avoid all conflicts, which leads to the fantasy of conflict with others, fantasy that I am quarreling with others, fantasy that I lose my temper, and throw things. I have also jumped from a very high place to see how high I can accept the jump, and shut myself in a very small closet to see if people will die without air. I have thought about a hundred ways to die, but in the end it will stop. Go over the railing by the school lake to see if you can walk on the frozen lake. However, the above are all implemented within the range I think is safe. Except for stepping on the frozen lake, which was done not long ago, everything else was done when I was very young. I can do one thing over and over again, telling an endless looping story, but I also force myself to stop. I can control it. Phoebe can't, she can't control herself, I think this is the greatest sorrow of a congenital obsessive-compulsive disorder patient. It is embedded in the flesh, and the skin is broken and bleeding on the leg to transfer the pain of the ligament. I kept repeating one thing, one small thing, until I realized that normal people are not like this, so I stopped. Phoebe can't, she can't control herself to stop. I keep washing my hands, not to wash the bleeding, she will. I know that I will behave abnormally under certain circumstances, so I avoid all conflicts, which leads to the fantasy of conflict with others, fantasy that I am quarreling with others, fantasy that I lose my temper, and throw things. I have also jumped from a very high place to see how high I can accept the jump, and shut myself in a very small closet to see if people will die without air. I have thought about a hundred ways to die, but in the end it will stop. Go over the railing by the school lake to see if you can walk on the frozen lake. However, the above are all implemented within the range I think is safe. Except for stepping on the frozen lake, which was done not long ago, everything else was done when I was very young. I can do one thing over and over again, telling an endless looping story, but I also force myself to stop. I can control it. Phoebe can't, she can't control herself, I think this is the greatest sorrow of a congenital obsessive-compulsive disorder patient. It is embedded in the flesh, and the skin is broken and bleeding on the leg to transfer the pain of the ligament. I kept repeating one thing, one small thing, until I realized that normal people are not like this, so I stopped. Phoebe can't, she can't control herself to stop. I keep washing my hands, not to wash the bleeding, she will. I know that I will behave abnormally under certain circumstances, so I avoid all conflicts, which leads to the fantasy of conflict with others, fantasy that I am quarreling with others, fantasy that I lose my temper, and throw things. I have also jumped from a very high place to see how high I can accept the jump, and shut myself in a very small closet to see if people will die without air. I have thought about a hundred ways to die, but in the end it will stop. Go over the railing by the school lake to see if you can walk on the frozen lake. However, the above are all implemented within the range I think is safe. Except for stepping on the frozen lake, which was done not long ago, everything else was done when I was very young. I can do one thing over and over again, telling an endless looping story, but I also force myself to stop. I can control it. Phoebe can't, she can't control herself, I think this is the greatest sorrow of a congenital obsessive-compulsive disorder patient.
Coincidentally, my English name is also Phoebe. I picked it for myself a long time ago when I was in junior high school. Fortunately, my obsessive-compulsive disorder has been self-regulating since I discovered it and it has been getting better, but unfortunately, many things have gradually disappeared due to my obsessive-compulsive disorder, and I can't do it as well as before.
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