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.
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