Despite the title, this blog will not be a dumping ground for my neurotic obsessions and compulsions (and other quirky crazies), but instead a place to laugh at myself, grow and explore. My mental illness(es) does not define me, but it sure as hell characterizes me and I'm totally okay with that.
For those of you who don't know, here's a little psychology lesson. Ima go grab my old DSM IV (jk I don't own one of those nightmares) and bring out the definition of OCD. There are actually a number of different criteria that must be met in order to be diagnosed with this disorder, so I'll just give you the boiled-down version.
"Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) is an anxiety disorder in which people have unwanted and repeated thoughts, feelings, ideas, sensations (obsessions), or behaviors that make them feel driven to do something (compulsions).Often the person carries out the behaviors to get rid of the obsessive thoughts, but this only provides temporary relief. Not performing the obsessive rituals can cause great anxiety. A person's level of OCD can be anywhere from mild to severe, but if severe and left untreated, it can destroy a person's capacity to function at work, at school or even to lead a comfortable existence in the home." - Psychology Today
I often hear people say "OMG I am SO OCD". Or "Oh gee, I sure like to line things up all neat n' stuff. It's my OCD." Silly, silly people. I giggle at such claims and WISH my OCD manifested itself in tidying up our house (it doesn't). While those miseducated people used to drive me bananas, nowadays I take a much gentler approach and ask if said person is actually diagnosed with the disorder, and if they are not I kindly educate them of the horrors of true OCD.
I'll give you a short run-down of my interpretation of what it's like to live with OCD. Essentially, my oh-so-evolved brain spends all of it's time identifying possible dangers (everything) and trying to protect me from said dangers. It goes a little like this. "Oh, weird, a red mark. Is that a new mole? When did it get there? Holy shit has it gotten bigger? It's probably not melanoma but lemme just google this real quick.... HOLY SHIT. MELANOMA. OMG. This will surely kill me. OMG what about this mole? Was this here? Am I losing it? Yes. Wait don't answer that. DAN COME HERE LOOK AT MY MOLES!! Holy shit cancer moles. Cancer. Cancer. Cancer. Cancer. Cancer. Melanoma. Wait, what's that? Is that a lump? Right by where my ovary is? OH NO. Was that there? Is it food or like a tumor? A tumor for sure. Feel it again. Seems okay but.... just one more time for good measure. Oh man another mole? Has it changed? Check it one more time. Don't google. Don't google. Don't google. Don't google. Cancer. Cancer. Cancer. Cancer. Cancer. SHUT UP SARAH YOU'RE FINE. But maybe one more poke to make sure that lump is food. Okay it's gone. But wait, what IS that? Is that an organ? A lump? An organ-lump? HALP."
This is me at my worst. I know I've portrayed it a little joke-y, but it is truly a living nightmare. Thankfully, I have my symptoms under control and I don't have to check my boobs 500 times a day for tumors. Literally 500.
But, it's still there. Lurking, waiting to catch me at my most vulnerable moment and take over my brain. Turn me into a boob-poking obsessive compulsive nightmare to live with.
But behold! I have coping skills! And the internet to be my captive audience! Each OCD episode leaves me stronger and more able to be like "Naw OCD. You wrong. I know you tryna help me and protect my awesome existence but GTFO." And you know what? Sometimes my OCD listens and does get the fuck out. HUZZAH!
Now that we got the fun stuff out of the way, maybe I can blog about doing nail stuff or something. Because nails, that's why.
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