Challenges - The Good Kind

Things have been crazy around here these past few months. And I mean crazy in that I'm doing things a normal person does! I don't do it without thought or anxiety, sometimes lots of it, sometimes only a little. But the progress I have made is pretty amazing.

It's odd that most of the time, I don't realize how well I'm doing. Partly, there is a long way to go yet. Also, very few things that we've been challenging have completely normalized. I've been going to Target and shopping, even using a basket, and signing on their credit card machine with the little pen - all without hand sanitizing - for more than a month now. But every time I reach for the pen, I feel a little twinge of fear. I still don't just do stuff without thinking about it like everyone else does. I still consider the possibilities of danger.

However, I don't obsess over these things either. Once I've committed to a challenge, one of the best ways for me to get through it is to just do it. And then, not think about it anymore. I touch the pen, I grab my stuff and I walk out of Target thinking about anything but those germs I can feel on my hands. I try to not give into the focus that the OCD wants me to give it. And so, once I've touched something, part of the victory is forgetting the victory. You see how I might not notice how well I'm doing?

Recently however, we went after some of the biggest monsters of all. I had gone through one of my two week challenges for doors, but I left out the doors of the places that I consider really scary. Don't get me wrong, Target and Starbucks scared me to death but at least I never stopped going to those places altogether. Walmart however, I had not stepped foot in for a couple of years, hand sanitizer or not.

So, we went after what we called the "Big Doors." And I did it! We went to 3 Walmarts that were increasingly more difficult based on how dirty they are and how scary the OCD ranks them. We went to a McDonald's I was terrified of. I've been grocery shopping with my husband and have touched the carts and the products and the pens and watched him (horrified but allowing it) hand over our keys to the cashier to swipe our savings card. I even put gas in the car and went in a gas station. All without hand sanitizing after! And I didn't just go. I had to purchase something at Walmart so that I had to touch stuff during checkout and so that I had something to keep touching from there afterwards.

The OCD hasn't taken these phenomenal victories lightly. Sometimes I will find myself freaking out over a pen that I found somewhere in my house. I tried to begin a challenge to start doing laundry again and I went into an anxiety attack over how it's done and how my husband has broken some of the OCD's demands for the laundry process. It's hard to remember that things in my home should be no big deal when I've managed to touch all this stuff in the world. But the OCD will grab on wherever there is a little crack of opportunity. And so, everyday is still a fight. But it gets easier. I think about that pen at Target a little less every time. Someday, I hope I will not think about it at all.

There's still a lot of stuff I can't do, but the list of can'ts is getting smaller and smaller while the list of cans, things I thought I might never do again, only keeps growing.

An Ode to Glee

Another post about TV, you say? Well, yes. Amazingly enough, TV is one of the things that has gotten me through these past few years. One of my counselors says that I have the most optimistic relationship with TV that she's ever seen. I approach my favorite TV shows in much the same way that I approach a great book. I end up in relationship with the characters, I find truths about myself and about life as I watch these stories unfold. And thanks to the wonder that is TV on DVD, watching shows for hours on end got me through the darkest days of OCD and depression when I couldn't find the energy or the courage to do any thing else.

So, though Buffy (which I haven't been able to even try to sum up) taught me the most about fighting demons and Bones has been like a good friend, Glee holds a very different place. I do love the characters on Glee and I love their story lines as well. But mostly, I love the music and the dancing. As these characters that I've fallen in love with step up and perform on the screen, it truly brings me glee. The show isn't named that simply because it's a glee club. It is a show that conveys joy and other emotions through the power of music. I have spent many an hour re-watching scenes of certain songs with a big silly grin on my face or doing my own private dance (and let me say, I am NOT a dancer).

In counseling lately, one thing we've really been concentrating on are the things I can access to soothe myself, to calm my anxiety so that I can get through a challenge or an attack without giving into my compulsion. One of the first ways I identified to do this was through Glee. When I put on the Glee soundtrack and start singing and dancing along, something in me changes. One night I was especially down and in a matter of minutes, I had turned my mood around just by listening to this music, laying on the couch. It's generally more effective if I sing along, but sometimes just listening or even lip-syncing is just as good. When my counselor and I went over it, she said that music actually changes the chemicals and pathways in our brains. It has a very real and strong power. And when I turn to this uplifting, joyful, energetic music (even the sad songs, somehow) I cannot help but be drawn in. Music has always been a big part of my life, both the listening and creating of it. Especially through high school and college, as a melancholy singer/songwriter, I would poor my depression into my songs. The songs I've written have been both therapy and a record of my journey. But I do not think I have ever used music in such a happy way as I have with Glee.

The show has given me something else, and that is a character who has OCD. Emma Pillsbury is beautiful and kind. She is wise and wonderful. She is quirky as all get out. And she has OCD. She always has hand sanitizer on her desk and is often seen using it. One time, a student throws up on her and she later tells another character that she went to the hospital and had them give her 4 decontamination showers. She has trouble with life's "messes." But she is also someone who believes in growth and moving forward. She daily helps students as the guidance counselor and as we start this second season, she is seeking therapy herself. She has a new boyfriend as well and recently she said that they bought both red and green grapes, mixed them together and just ate them. She's trying to gain her own freedom and find her way out of her chains. I haven't seen very many OCD characters on TV and to have one that is so open and so positive is very powerful and inspirational for me. One of the great messages of Glee is the story of the underdog and how we all can connect to that. She especially has made me feel that I am not alone with this particular brand of my differentness.

And so, I thought I'd give a little shout out to Glee today. I recently wrote an article about my OCD journey for a contest and after I submitted it, I felt bad for not mentioning Glee along with some of the stories that helped me along my way, so I'm making up for it here. When the first episode aired this season, my husband looked over at me and just started laughing. I asked him what was going on and he said I knew I'd look over and see that silly grin on your face and there it is. I don't know that there's another show that brings me this kind of happiness, this Glee. So thank you!

A Tribute to Bones

If you know me well at all, you know that I love the TV show Bones. I found it this past spring and watched it pretty much as quickly as possible. That's 5 seasons, watched in about a month. I loved it. I watched it during one of my darkest periods of depression, a time when I began to think that the OCD was going to be my lifelong companion. I pretty much gave up, except for some little spark that wouldn't go out.

Well, now, that spark has grown a lot and I'm on this journey of fighting back against the OCD. We've recovered so much of my life. I've opened doors, I've set my phone on a table at restaurants. When we're eating out, I no longer guard my arms as though they will burn if they hit the table. I'm in a much different place than just a handful of months ago, and yet, Bones still has an important role. Each time we start one of these new challenges, I pick the reward that I'm working for. Getting the seasons of Bones has been quite motivational. I'm re-watching and completely drawn back in. As a testament to just how much I want to get the next season, season 4, today I asked my husband if we could start a new challenge that I wasn't really sure I was ready for. But man, I want those dvd's. So, I've begun the challenge of shaking people's hands and not hand sanitizing afterwards. It's a big one. But I think it'll be worth it.

This might not all seem like a big deal, it is after all just a TV show. But to me, it's something that has kept me company when there wasn't much light and which has helped me keep moving forward. Thanks, Bones!

A Step Back

Lately, I've written a lot about the victories. I've finally been on a path of moving forward instead of staying still in the OCD, which is awesome, but one of my reasons for writing this blog was to explain the hell that is living in this disorder.

Well, today makes that easy. I had a glimpse of the utter darkness that has blessedly lifted as of late. It all started with a fever blister...

I do not understand why fever blisters/cold sores are the center of my personal OCD. They are the thing that made me afraid of myself and then, I remember the day it happened, I looked at something at McDonald's that I was getting ready to touch and I thought, "What if someone who has a fever blister touched that?" And that was the beginning of my intense fear of public places. It got much worse from there over time, but that was the genesis.

The first summer after I was diagnosed was the darkest period of my life. For 6 weeks, I constantly believed that I had a fever blister. Now, there were small cuts on my lips from them being dry or canker sores in my mouth and maybe one or two real fever blisters, but it was an awful time. Every morning I would make my husband shower right away when he got up. I would shower right away when I got up, because I believed that every inch of me was contaminated from my mouth. I would have to shower a certain way, far more regulated than my shower rituals even now. My husband would have to spray the shower down after I showered. I made him wash the bedding every single day. I pulled my hair back and put a headband on so no fly aways could hit my lips. I sat huddled on my couch, watching TV, afraid to touch anything for fear I would contaminate it. I had a bottle of hand sanitizer near me because I felt as though I was constantly spitting on myself and would have to sanitize my arms or hands or wherever I felt it hit. I got to the point where I was almost afraid to talk. I was terrified of talking on the phone and would clean it off after anytime that it was necessary for me to use it. If it weren't for The Gilmore Girls, I'm not sure what I would have done with myself, because I was trapped inside myself. I didn't kiss my husband for 6 weeks. I didn't let him near me to sleep. I could sit near him on the couch, only if I sat a certain way where I felt I couldn't contaminate him. And this was a fear I could not take any break from. Generally, there are no breaks from OCD since germs are everywhere, but you truly cannot escape for even a bit when the thing you are frightened of is your own body. There were other things that I had to do to feel like I wasn't going to spread fever blisters to my whole body and this time was hell.

The fall after that first awful summer, I got on a medication to prevent fever blisters. For the past 2 years, I have still been incredibly afraid of them, and many times believed I had one. But never to the extent of that summer. Though I took precautions so that if any one ever came on, I'd be safe. That's why I never touched my mouth without hand sanitizing. That's why I put my toothpaste on my hand first, washed my hands after brushing my teeth, set my cups on paper towels...all of my weird mouth stuff. And recently, just 2 months ago, I defeated those terrible habits. I knew my mouth was safe and I learned how to embrace that part of me again.

Yesterday, I had a day of going back and forth over whether the spot on my mouth was a fever blister. I've had a few of these in the past several months and every time came to the conclusion that it was not and that I was safe. My lips are always really dry (I know, I know, drink more water) and so usually I finally determine that they're just cracked. But this one I have not been able to overcome. My husband stands firm in believing that it's not a fever blister, but I haven't been able to accept it since sometime yesterday late afternoon. And today has been the worst day of anxiety, no, absolute fear, that I've had in a long time.

So, we made a deal with the OCD. I get to treat this as though it's a fever blister - however, only in the ways a normal person would do so. That means I wash my hands after I touch my lips. Um, that's pretty much all I'm allowed. It's been an incredibly hard day. I showered last night, so I wasn't allowed on this morning. I kept my pajamas on, something I do everyday, but not something I wanted to do today. I was terrified of my hair that had been all over my pillow in the night with my mouth. I've been forced to touch things as normal and not protect them from myself. It's been rough. I took my extra anxiety pill last night and today, something I haven't needed to do for months. But I'm fighting and that's what really matters. I hope I can keep it up. I hope that when it's gone I don't decide that we need to wash the sheets or something.

One of my husband's greatest encouragements (and bless him, he had a LOT) today was related to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which I love. He said I needed to be her. I need to fight the demons like she does and believe I can do it and be strong. So, instead of a Vampire Slayer, I am the OCD slayer. Today felt like a step back into the blackness, but this time I fought a lot harder and I think there's been some light of victory today. There's been some slaying going on.

Vacation

We just took our big summer trip to visit our families. We spent a week in Kansas with my family and a week in South Dakota with my husband's. It was great. We had such a good time. When we got back, one of my friends asked me how the OCD was while we were gone and I said, "we kicked its ass!"

The challenge for the trip was that I needed to be able to touch pretty much anything at my parents' house, my grandma's house, my in-laws house, etc. I also ended up touching public doors in the small town my parents live in. It seemed like a good place to start. In a town of 1,500, I'm not nearly as scared as I am in Nashville (though I'm still plenty scared.) I managed this really well. I touched doors in one of the slightly bigger towns in South Dakota too...they have about 15,000 people so that was a real jump up. We had a couple of things we really had to talk through, but overall, I did great. And coming off of our last challenge (going places and coming home, not changing my clothes and sitting on the couch and stuff) we even went to a movie! I haven't been to a movie without showering afterwards for 2 years. And I did it this time!

It's really hard to explain how big these victories are. The fact that I now put toothpaste directly onto my toothbrush feels like an exciting achievement every time I do it. One afternoon in South Dakota that involved hugs and board games and a dining table, I said to Dave, "Do you know how many times I would have hand sanitized for this afternoon at Christmas?" I counted that there were at least 8 times that I would have reached for that little bottle and I didn't this time.

Probably the weirdest thing about all of this is that I feel like each time I do something the normal way, it should be a big deal. People should be questioning me or there should be a big fanfare or at least I should go into a full on panic attack. But instead, once I've made the commitment to go after a trigger, and especially after doing it for a bit, the normalcy just slips quietly in. I don't think this means I could have reached this point at any time these past two years. Something in the last two months has certainly changed. I know a piece of it is medicine, but I think there have also been changes in my spirit and in my brain. I don't really need to pinpoint it. I'm just glad that things aligned and we've been able to go after these challenges. And succeed.

Hope

A few weeks ago my doctor added a new medication. It's helping for right now, though I'm hesitant to trust it because every new medicine seems to give me some hope and then just tapers off. But my husband and I have taken advantage of this upswing.

A week and a half ago I made the comment that I wanted to do more with the fight against the OCD. Well, my husband jumped on that. He hadn't heard me say anything like that for so long, he couldn't let the opportunity slide by. So the next day, he suggests a real plan.

For the past 2 years I have barely touched my mouth and never without hand sanitizing or washing my hands. I'm so afraid of fever blisters and that I won't know when one is coming. So, it's been one of my bigger struggles and keeps me afraid of myself, which is a quite miserable place to be. I had recently been able to touch my mouth, just a couple of times and very briefly, but we decided this would be the one we would go after. My husband and I wrote up a list for the challenge. Each day I could not wash or hand sanitize after touching my mouth, eating with my hands, brushing my teeth, etc. Things I don't even think about anymore - I just take care of it right after. Also, each day, I would be required to touch my mouth 5 times a day quickly and once for a more extended period of time. My husband said that if I did this for 2 weeks, he'd be so proud of me and would get me a present that equaled this immense challenge.

The first couple days were very hard, but though there was some anxiety, I never had a full on anxiety or panic attack. There was something about knowing I'd done it a couple times before and also having committed to it. It's also been very helpful that this is the only goal we're working on right now. I don't have to worry about my feet or the doorknob for these 2 weeks. We're just going after one compulsion very hard.

And let me tell you, this has been an awesome victory! I'm doing great at it. I'm 11 days in and I'm fully capable of touching my mouth and doing all kinds of normal things regarding it without cleaning my hands. It feels amazing! To have something so normal taken from you and then to get it back...well, it feels like I just learned to walk again or something.

The goal is to just keep going. Every 2 weeks we're going to try to attack another compulsion and consistently go after it for the 2 week stretch until it becomes no big deal to me. I hope we can do it. I hope I can do it. But the one thing that this has given me, something even bigger than being able to touch my mouth, is hope. For the first time in a loooooooong time I have some hope again. I feel stronger, braver and just more optimistic. Each challenge still scares me completely, but I feel like maybe we can just chip away at this little by little, like a great piece of granite, and maybe finally something beautiful will emerge. It's a long road ahead but it looks like there's a bit of light, at least for now.

Thanks for all your support and prayers and encouragement. Keep praying and maybe I'll make it though this....one victory at a time.

Presents

It's been so long since I've written anything you probably thought I'd given up this blog thing. I've been pretty depressed lately, and if you know anything about depression, you know it sucks the motivation right out of ya. So...that's my excuse and I'm stickin' to it.

My husband and I have decided to try a new tactic against the OCD: flat out bribery. You see, a few weeks back, my husband walks in the room and says, "I see some cups without paper towels under them. How about you don't use any paper towels under cups anymore?" (Why the paper towels you ask? Well, I'm terrified of fever blisters, even though I've gotten them my whole life, and I put the paper towel under the cups to catch any germs that would drip down the sides. But you don't have a fever blister right now, you say. Yeah, that doesn't matter.)

So, I look up at my husband and say, "No, I don't think I can do that." "How about for a present?" he asks. OK. And that battle was conquered. They will not all be that easy. I was close to letting go of that one anyway for some reason. I hadn't been as consistent about using paper towels. But we decided to go after other stuff in a similar manner. Right now, I'm working on not cleaning off my purse when I take it places. The first couple of times, I still cleaned off the handles, which was cheating, but the last time, I didn't even do that. When I do this several times and it becomes normalized to not clean it anymore, then I get a present.

Sometimes I feel like a 5 year old being bribed with candy and toys...

After the Flood

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile. As most of you know, the weekend before last, the first week of May, Nashville flooded. My husband and I were fine. I often complain about our tiny, old apartment, but I've been especially thankful for it now as it kept us safe and dry. We know friends who were not as lucky as us though and looking around our city has been hard.

One of the hardest things about the OCD and a crisis like this is I find myself very unable to offer my helping hands. I'm freaked out by other people's homes on a daily basis. Add standing water, possibilities of mold, etc, and I simple cannot do it. So, I haven't been part of Nashville's outpouring of support to those of its citizens that have been most affected.

We've also, as a city, needed to conserve water. Now, as someone who has OCD and washes her hands many times a day, this could have been interesting. Thankfully, I've grown to rely more on hand sanitizer over the past several months and so it didn't seem like such a big thing. (Of course, I'm not ok that Target ran out of almost all the hand sanitizer and I had to get little bottles of the kind I don't like. But go Nashvillians for conserving!)

I've been feeling very anxious lately and I'm not sure why. I'm trying to sort through my own stuff. But we are thankful that we were safe in the flood and we're praying for all those who have lost homes, possessions, family and who are just trying to put their lives back together right now.

A Wonderful Trip

Sorry I haven't written in awhile. Last weekend, my husband and I traveled to see some friends for our anniversary. We had a great time. Seeing the city of DC, catching up, eating good food, drinking good drinks. It was just a wonderful time.

The treat of the weekend was that my OCD behaved itself. It wasn't gone by any means, but I did stuff that I haven't done in a long time. I shared food, not just something I could split, but we all shared some amazing chocolate mousse. I don't share food because one of my biggest OCD fears is fever blisters. Our friends have a dog and I handled that amazingly well. I even let him lick my clothes and didn't worry about it. Most importantly, I knew that our friends were out in the world and touched things in their home without using my OCD rules, and yet, I felt completely comfortable there. I still hand sanitized like crazy, I still showered after our day at the Smithsonian. But I felt so much better about so many little things that usually get me into an OCD frenzy.

The weekend was a blessing. But it also made me sad. It was a taste of freedom and when I came home, I felt like I was headed back to prison. But I think that maybe I've held onto just a bit of the momentum that came from the weekend. It was so nice to be just a bit more free, to taste just a slice of something ever so slightly more normal.

To our friends - Thank you for the great weekend! We love and miss you!

TV

So, I was watching New Moon (don’t judge, just love me for it). Actually, I was watching some deleted scenes and in one the main character has been lost and her dad puts her in bed after she’s found. It’s very sweet. That’s not what I saw.

When he lays her in bed, he puts her in the wrong way, with her feet on the pillow, head at the end of the bed. I was watching this with a friend and I know for a fact that this meant nothing to her except for any storytelling value it may have had. For me, it started the OCD screaming. She had her shoes on and they were not only on the bed, but on her pillow! She had not just her clothes on in bed, which is hard enough for me, but she had her jacket on. When I pointed this out to my friend, she said, yeah but she was just on the dirt and that’s not as big of a deal for you. Well, she’s right. But the OCD countered with the fact that that jacket goes everywhere, to school, to the mall, out into the world of germs and now it was in her bed!

This is what it’s like for me to watch tv or movies or read books. I don’t just see the story, I see the OCD. When someone puts their feet up on a couch, I notice. When someone picks something up off the floor and just moves on, I see it. I’ve been watching Bones lately (love it!) and I notice when they touch something gross and they pull one of their lamps over. And I wonder, do they touch that later?

I guess I’m trying to show that OCD isn’t just something that I do. It’s how I see the whole world.

Some Depression I Guess

I've been feeling very blah lately. In one of my therapies last week, we talked about how I've kind of lost my fight. Trust me, it's not that I don't want to beat the OCD, it's that I'm tired and a part of me has simply given in and let it have whatever it wants. Not a good place to be. So, I need to find my fight again.

The next day, in the other therapist's office, I had a great session and gained some feelings of self-worth. Which I then connected as something I can use to help fight. But it's not enough. I'm waiting for that something to kick me into gear. I guess maybe I should go out and find it, but I'm just not sure what it is.

This isn't the best of posts, but I guess it's a reflection of my mood. I'm just so full of feeling nothing that I don't have much to write about this week. Sorry.

A Small Miracle

Recently we were visiting my far away parents. We had a wonderful time, but alas, we had some challenges too. So, my parents have 2 cats. The older one we’ve had for 11 years and her name is Dara. She’s mean, though I love her anyway, and so mostly I just spend my time playing with the littler one, Oreo, or as I prefer to call him, Kitty. Now, Kitty breaks my OCD rules. He has full run of my parents’ farm house, he goes places I am NOT ok with, and yet I still hold him, snuggle with him, even kiss him sometimes. I love this Kitty. It’s pretty pitiful.

We had only been here a day or so when one night I was just worried that there was a mouse in the kitchen. I didn’t have any concrete info to tell me this, there was just something about the way Dara looked at the kitchen stove that made me worried. But mom assured me that if it were true, Dara would be going nuts and so there was no mouse. So later, when Kitty was batting something around under and near the stove, I promised myself that it was not a mouse.

About an hour later, Dara walks into the living room, dead mouse in her mouth. I do not take this well.

At the time that Dara waltzes in with her prize, I am holding Kitty, his paw across my face and I start freaking out. What if that’s what Kitty was playing with under the stove? What if I get that terrible virus that mice very rarely carry but that I’ve heard about? What about the fact that it’s just plain gross?

My dad takes care of the mouse. I go into a panic attack. I cried. I went away from the cats. I tried to not just run and jump in the shower. But then here’s the small miracle. This is a farmhouse which has gotten mice for years. My parents don’t do a thing about it other than get rid of the mouse. There’s no cleaning, no sanitizing, nothing. And somehow, I made it and was ok with that. I didn’t have a good evening. I worried about more mice for the rest of the trip. I took an anxiety pill that night, cleaned off my face and didn’t let Kitty in to sleep with us that night (see how he breaks all the rules?). My husband had to talk me through a lot. But I didn’t make my mom scour things. I didn’t shower that night even though I felt gross. I didn’t banish Kitty away from me. I didn’t stop enjoying my parents’ home. And by the next morning, I held Kitty again. I steered clear of Dara for a couple of days, but I didn’t let the OCD run everything about the situation.

I’m still totally freaked out by mice. But I made it through one more victory.

A Day Out

Today was a rough OCD day because I was actually out in the world. I didn’t have my safety net, my husband, and I was with a bunch of people who didn’t know about the OCD and I was faced with the normal world. It was hard. I did a semester study program back in 2001 and the current students were here for their semester’s trip. So, it was an opportunity for me to see my old professors and tag along to a couple of their meetings.

Well, I didn’t know tagging along meant having 3 people in my car with me. I didn’t know it would mean opening doors and not feeling like I could hand sanitize. I didn’t know that one girl would leave her phone in my car and of course ask for my keys so she could go get it. I never hand my keys over. And then I had to just put them in my purse!

I ended up having a pretty good day. I did a really good job of just pushing the OCD aside and saying I’d deal with it later. But dealing with it later sucks. It meant a shower. It meant my husband spraying down the car and cleaning stuff for me. It will mean cleaning all the stuff in my purse off, and of course spraying my purse with Febreeze Anti-Microbial, but that’s pretty standard when I take my purse out in public. The shower is fairly normal too after an intense time out. But the car and the inside of the purse and the keys and everything…well, it was just a big day for OCDumb.

An Overview...Kind Of

I have been living with OCD for a little more than 2 years. I’m 28 and it’s somewhat unusual for it to hit so late, but it’s hit me and hard. I had a completely different life before this. I went on mission trips to third world countries and didn’t think twice about it. I traveled all over Europe, trains and planes and gross hostels and sometimes by myself. And I didn’t give the germs a second thought. And then it all changed. The severity has gradually gotten worse over the past 2 years, but the onset has been pretty rapid in the span of my life.

I’m not sure how to describe my OCD. No wait, that’s not true. There’s one word that does it nicely: fear. My obsessions revolve around germs. I see germs where most people wouldn’t even dream of looking. I notice things that I guarantee your eyes miss. I follow actions, I follow the path of the germs after someone touches something “dirty.” And I’m terrified. I’m afraid that these little invisible germs are going to harm me or ruin my life in some way. Usually, it’s unnameable, though sometimes I fear a particular disease. I avoid places that seem germy. I hand sanitize more than you can imagine. No. Really. A huge bottle of hand sanitzer, and by huge I mean 32 ounces, lasts me about a week. I make my husband do things certain ways, using hand sanitizer after every public door is just an example. Eating out fills me with terror because I have to sit in seats someone else has been in, touch a table someone else has touched. And don’t get me started on how scared I am of the servers. Even church is a place of fear. The throng of people, the “unclean” chairs…most of the time I can’t bring myself to go anymore.

And then, on the occasions when I can convince myself that I’m not actually that afraid of the germs (and these are few and far between) I am afraid of the anxiety. The anxiety attacks or panic attacks or hours of focusing on that one little touch of something dirty are the worst part of this disorder. They leave me a wreck, they leave me unable to even focus on a tv show, and we all know that’s not too hard.

Spread on a thick layer of depression and you get a small glimpse of my OCD life. It is very hard to put into words and I’m sure I didn’t do a great job of explaining it, but I hope to cover more of that through the stories of what my day to day life looks like.

I am fighting to get better. I am seeing two therapists, I'm on medication, reading books, praying, being prayed for and seeking help in as many ways as I can think of. I am not currently doing Exposure and Response Prevention because I am too scared (more on that later) and don’t think I can take it. But I do force myself to do exposures occasionally and life is kind of an exposure too, isn’t it? At least it is when you’re afraid of just about everything in it.

I want you to know that I’m not writing this so you will feel sorry for me, I’m writing this so you will understand. It is hard, but it is my life. And I still have hope of getting out of this dark time. But to ignore it because it is hard will not help the person struggling in your life or you if you are fighting too.

This blog is going to be very personal. If you choose to be a reader, please be gentle. I do not fight this OCD in the “right” ways. I have my husband help me all the time, which to the professionals is called enabling, a word that makes me cry easily. But I am fighting. I have not given in. And this blog is for me to share my story with you. I hope you will be gentle with yourself too.

What This Is All About

A blog. I have waited a long time to jump on this train even though I love to write, was an English major and occasionally think that I could have something to share. However, I tend to think my life is pretty boring. I’m happily married to an amazing guy but we’re pretty content being homebodies. I don’t work, at least not enough to call it working and most of the time I just think that I would have nothing to share with the world…or at least the internet.

And then a dear friend reminded me of what I do have to share. OCD, or Obssessive-Compulsive Disorder. I don’t want to actually share this disorder with you as it’s debilatating and quite terrible. But maybe you have it yourself and feel alone in the struggle. Maybe you know someone with OCD and you don’t understand it, because really, how could you? Maybe you are neither but something about it makes you curious.

I don’t really know what this blog will look like, but I want to share this struggle because I believe that it’s through sharing that our loads grow lighter and that we make it through.