Rumination<\/b><\/a>:\u00a0Rumination is one of the core characteristics of\u00a0OCD<\/b>\u00a0that causes a person to spend an inordinate amount of time worrying, figuring out, trying to understand, analyzing or clarifying thought or theme.<\/p>\nI examined every conversation I ever had and every single moment I could recall, replaying all of it over and over again in my mind, searching for evidence that I was an awful person. I was devastated. I\u2019d sob from the guilt. It was the first time I ever hated myself.<\/p>\n
At night, I was no longer counting sheep or catching Zs, and instead I was endlessly searching my mind for a reason I was having such horrendous thoughts. I needed to take care of this before my parents found out, before I hurt them.\u00a0I shouldn\u2019t be having these thoughts<\/i>, I continued to tell myself.<\/p>\n
Then, after about a month of feeling these intrusive thoughts constantly, I of course had another intrusive thought.<\/p>\n
I was losing my damn mind.<\/p>\n
My uncle was schizophrenic.<\/p>\n
Maybe I was schizophrenic too.<\/p>\n
I was losing my mind, thinking I would hurt my own mom, so\u00a0I must be schizophrenic<\/b>, right?<\/p>\n
And then, suddenly, less than a minute later,\u00a0I was schizophrenic<\/b>.<\/i><\/p>\n
It happened quickly, and sure enough, another obsession was born.<\/p>\n
I believed there was a high probability I was losing my mind and there was nothing I could do about it. I began researching that night, and my schizophrenia obsession became best friends with my new favorite compulsion.\u00a0Google.<\/i><\/p>\n
I learned whatever I could about schizophrenia, trying to convince myself I didn\u2019t have it and I never would. I needed to be absolutely positive.<\/p>\n
I felt immense amounts of guilt that I was so fearful of having an illness many people cope with and live a good life with. Just because my uncle had it and couldn\u2019t cope didn\u2019t mean I would share that same fate, but I still couldn\u2019t shake the feeling.<\/p>\n
I had it, and I couldn\u2019t guarantee I would find the right help, so it continued to nag at me. It consumed me.<\/p>\n
I needed to be 100% certain, but I couldn\u2019t be, because nothing in this life is ever 100% certain, and that thought sliced through me like a rusty knife.<\/p>\n
My parents heard me sobbing in my room one night, and they took me to the doctor a week later.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t tell the doctor about my intrusive thoughts because I was too scared. I didn\u2019t want him to think I would hurt my parents, and I definitely didn\u2019t want him to tell me I had schizophrenia. So I just told him I was crying a lot at night and I couldn\u2019t sleep. I was scared, and I worried a lot.<\/p>\n
The doctor asked if anything changed recently. I told him I recently moved there. He said I was experiencing night anxiety from the recent move. It was a big change, he had explained.\u00a0Yeah, no fucking shit.<\/i><\/p>\n
He prescribed me Ambien, which is a sleeping medication.<\/p>\n
My parents wouldn\u2019t let me take it, and I never saw that doctor again.<\/p>\n
The<\/b><\/i>\u00a0next time I went to see someone about my mental health, I was 21 years old.<\/p>\n
I finally wanted help for the anxiety I\u2019d been experiencing for years, but I needed to see a doctor first, as my insurance required me to get a referral before I could see a licensed therapist. I told the doctor I was experiencing severe anxiety and wanted help coping with it.<\/p>\n
She asked what I was having anxiety about and I explained I\u2019d always had anxiety, but currently I was worried about my boyfriend dying in a car accident and other people close to me possibly dying somehow as well.<\/p>\n
But unfortunately for me, I was fat, so she sent me to a nutritionist.<\/p>\n
Upset and embarrassed by this, I broke down in the nutritionist\u2019s office and confessed that I needed help with the fear of my boyfriend dying. I admitted to checking accident reports whenever he didn\u2019t answer his phone, and sometimes even after he already had answered, because\u00a0what if\u00a0<\/b>he got in an accident after our phone call ended five minutes ago?<\/p>\n
The nutritionist was befuddled by my hysterical state and I left\u2014with no therapist referral\u2014and never went back.<\/p>\n
Shortly after that, I got engaged, and moved to Ohio, where my then-fianc\u00e9 received a job offer. My fianc\u00e9 always tried to check on me and make certain I was okay, but I suffered silently in my own head, constantly ruminating and checking through my thoughts for reasons and certainty.<\/p>\n
But still, life was looking better. I mean, I was engaged and we had a home that was ours together. Even better than that, my fianc\u00e9 continued to come home from work, and when he continuously\u00a0didn\u2019t\u00a0<\/b>get into a car accident that killed him, I eventually started to think about it happening less and less.<\/p>\n
I thought I was finally learning to cope with my anxiety. It felt good.<\/p>\n
And that was my first positive experience with exposure therapy, whether I knew it or not.<\/p>\n
Then I turned 22, and an obsession so volatile was born.<\/p>\n
This is the obsession that finally broke me. It ripped me to shreds and sewed me back up, only to rip me apart again and again and again. It broke me in several moments, all of them excruciatingly painful, each in their very own nightmarish ways.<\/p>\n
But I\u2019m getting ahead of myself again, aren\u2019t I?<\/p>\n
It was a Wednesday afternoon and I was home alone.<\/p>\n
My then fianc\u00e9 was at work. He worked a lot back then. 60 hours for 6 days a week. That particular day, I was starting to feel anxious, so I decided I would call a friend to distract myself.<\/p>\n
I dialed the number and went to hit the call button, but I must have missed it, because when I put my phone up to my ear, there wasn\u2019t any ringing. I started to pull the phone away from my ear, but then I heard it.<\/p>\n
There was a clicking noise in my phone.<\/p>\n
Panic gripped my chest.<\/p>\n
Why would there be a clicking noise in MY phone?<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Here is where I protect my inner-peace by not telling you this specific intrusive thought or the devilish obsession it blossomed into.<\/p>\n
And yes, I do feel guilty for leaving you hanging like that, but you see, I\u2019m not writing this to divulge every sick intrusive thought that infiltrates my brain.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m writing this because I have OCD, and I\u2019m bitter as hell about it.<\/p>\n
Not bitter because I have OCD, either. That isn\u2019t it at all. I mean, I\u2019ve always had OCD. The only difference now is that I know, and trust me when I tell you that makes quite the difference in how to cope with it.<\/p>\n
OCD is treatable, and I feel so fortunate to be currently learning that.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m truly not bitter that I have OCD.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m bitter because I thought my house had to be constantly clean in order to have OCD.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m bitter because I never color code my closet.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m bitter because I can never keep my shit organized.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m bitter because OCD is beyond misunderstood, and if it weren\u2019t, then maybe people who have OCD would get help a lot sooner.<\/p>\n
I needed that help so badly it hurts to think about it. Tears burn my eyes whenever I do. I was so alone, locked in the prison of my mind, fearing I was a disgusting and horrendous person all because of the thoughts in my head.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m only now starting to learn that I\u2019m not a disgusting and horrendous person, and that\u2019s the real reason I\u2019m writing this, because now I know I was never alone in feeling the way that I did.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m writing this because I know that getting therapy is a privilege and that so many people like me are not receiving the therapy they need.<\/p>\n
So no, I\u2019m not writing this to exploit every intrusive thought or obsession I\u2019ve ever had. I\u2019m writing this for every person that is unknowingly struggling with OCD.<\/p>\n
I want to tell them what my therapist told me, because everyone that has OCD deserves to hear it, whether they have a doctor or not.<\/p>\n
A person who fears they would hurt someone just because they thought it is not a person who would hurt someone, because people who hurt people would never feel so torn up over the mere thought of doing so.<\/p>\n
You are not a bad person.<\/p>\n
You\u2019re just a human with OCD and a messy house, and that doesn\u2019t invalidate your mental illness.<\/p>\n
If you can seek help, please do it.<\/p>\n
It is treatable.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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