Monday marked one month since losing my grandmother. Am I sad? Yes, but I am doing better than I expected. Those baby steps I wrote about before are starting to make a noticeable difference. The day she was buried there was a small rainbow that formed as my family and I were getting ready to leave. I saw an almost identical rainbow after I went to visit her on Saturday.
As you might already know from my previous post, the guilt I felt about not making that damn tomato soup haunted me. So on Friday I visited my amazingly talented tattoo artist, Josh, and got a permanent reminder of the good memories I have with my grandmother (and tomato soup). *a special shout out & thank you to Josh for waiting on me because I live in Atlanta so traffic is an unpredictable nightmare*
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving so I wanted to take a moment and say thank you to my family and friends, for their unconditional love and support, Taylor, for sticking with me during the lowest of lows I’ve hit, and last but certainly not least, you all for reading my blog and letting me know I’m not alone when it comes to my struggles. When I started this blog it was a way for me to share my experiences with OCD but it has evolved into me opening up about my anxiety and depression, which is not something I had ever really planned on doing. There have been many times in my life that I have felt like I was on an island when it came to mental health and starting this blog has shown me that even on my worst days I am not alone. I hope you all have a great Thanksgiving. Thank you for lovin’ me, thank you for bein’ there! Everyone’s thankin’! The whole world’s thankin’ you! Thankin’ us, for thankin’ you! What’s your Thanksgiving song?
Also, if you haven’t started following me on Instagram…
I knew last week would be rough. I didn’t realize this week would give it a run for its money. Yesterday was the first day since October 18th that I didn’t cry. Don’t get me wrong, I found myself on the brink a few times but I am finally starting to feel like the massive blanket of depression that has been wrapped around my shoulders is starting to loosen. I can look at pictures of my grandmother without crying. I can remember the good times without (quite as much of) the guilt I felt for any of the free time I didn’t spend with her during her last weeks and days. Don’t get me wrong, I think we all need a good cry every now and then, but my eyes need a break. I’m starting to think I have entered a state of advanced dehydration due to the amount of crying (and occasional evening Bud Light Lime or four) I’ve done the past two weeks.
So, how did being thrown into the first week post-loss go for me? Less than stellar. The water to our entire complex was shut off Monday for emergency maintenance, so I sat on the couch like a potted plant instead of attempting to cross anything off of my to-do list (which started in July 2017 and has never been fully completed). I woke up Tuesday with a bit more pep in my step but it was quickly washed away once I got to work, where I was greeted with typical work things and promptly discovered the soup of the day was none other than tomato, which I’m pretty sure ya’ll already know didn’t go over well. I ended up using my lunch break to get cup of tomato soup and go to my car and cry. Because when life gives you lemons, what do you do? Go to your car and cry. Also, and this is small potatoes compared to the whole soup car crying thing, I have somehow managed grow an Olympus Mons (geography degree nerd humor, FTW!) sized zit on my face overnight Monday and it has truly flourished in the anxiety and stress ridden environment that is my life right now. Wednesday was definitely the highlight because, not only was it Halloween, it was my Super Awesome, Totally Rad Mom’s birthday!
Thursday was a long day that began with accidentally branding my arm with a clothes steamer and now it is Friday. Finally. Here’s to hoping I don’t end up crying in my car during my lunch break next week. But if I do, that’s okay too.
one of the most painful realizations that comes with grieving is that our lives go on—and that has to be okay.
If anyone is struggling with returning to life as usual after a loss, this article was a huge help to me.
Now that you’re nice and sad, some exciting news: my blog surpassed 1,000 views!
Thank you all for taking time out of your day to read about lil’ ol’ me, the human equivalent of a houseplant but with more complicated emotions. The calamity that is my life doesn’t seem to be slowing down so I’m happy to continue supplying the masses with relatable content/content that will, at the very least, make you feel better about your own situation. Let’s keep this good thing going!
….Now that I’m thinking about it, I probably account for around 25% of those views but whatever. Still counts.
There are many things I am bad at and lying is one of them (others include math, being patient, and expressing emotion). The past 4 days all I have been doing is lying. When someone asks how I’m doing my instinct is to say that I’m doing okay. But I’m not doing okay. I feel like my entire life has been turned upside down ever since I got a call Friday at 3:30am because I knew what I was going to hear before I answered the phone. Six hours after I posted tomato soup the one thing I have been dreading this entire year happened. And I try to remind myself/take my own advice to remember all of the great things I was able to do and experience when my grandmother was here but I’m struggling. Part of it is because I am just expected to go back to life as usual after the funeral tomorrow, which is impossible. Part of it is because any progress I feel like I have made with my checking is gone. Even before she passed I took a longer route back to the highway on the way home because that was the route I always took. I almost had a panic attack because I used a different eye shadow color Thursday morning. I came back inside after locking the front door to make sure I had unplugged the curling iron not once but twice. It feels like all of the tiny steps I have made to try and control my obsessions and compulsions have been replaced by the need to do them even more. I know that I will be okay and that I will get back to a place where I don’t get so overwhelmed thinking about the loss of my grandmother. But right now my heart physically hurts knowing she isn’t here anymore.
Grief is a weird thing. Adding to the complicated web of emotions that usually coincide with it, it is an especially complicated thing to deal with since everyone grieves differently. I wish I could put up an away message circa 2003 instant messenger for life. Basically just a BRB but with some angsty lyrics from a pop-punk band (which is still some of my favorite music to date. I have no shame).
My grandmother’s health has been declining for the past 3 months or so (and is one of the biggest reasons I have started going to therapy in the first place). She went from being independent, to having daily check-ins with her nurse, to now needing 24/7 care. The past 24-48 hours, in particular, have been the worst. We know she doesn’t have much time left here with us, which is very hard, but she is at peace and she is ready. Before she got to this current state, she would tell us stories from growing up or memories from trips she took. My entire family is so very lucky to have had her in our lives and we take comfort in knowing she isn’t scared of whatever her next journey has in store.
So how have I handled this incredibly emotional time? I haven’t. I have had times where I cry and get angry and upset, but those times are greatly outnumbered by the times I did absolutely nothing to prepare myself for the inevitable loss I have to face. Until now, I never truly understood the amount of guilt that comes along with grief.
If there was an award for Putting the Most Pressure on Oneself on a Daily Basis, there is a very good chance I would take home 1st place. And probably 2nd and 3rd, depending on what is going on in my life during the judging. Up to this point there have been a few times where we thought it was my grandmother’s time. Luckily, she pulled through. She toughed it out long enough to meet her newest great-granddaughter, Laura Jean, who was named after her. She enjoyed performances her oldest great-granddaughter, Lily. She met her great-granddaughter Charlotte, who lives a few hours away in Alabama, and was able to soak up all of the snuggles. All of these amazing things were just more memories for her to add to her memory bank. A few weeks ago when Taylor and I went to go visit, she gave us her recipe box because she knows we both enjoy cooking. We spent time talking about the recipes and looking through them. We all bonded over our love of tomato soup and she helped us find the recipe card in her box. As we were leaving we said excited to make a batch of the tomato soup since the weather was cooling off, planned to make some the upcoming Sunday, and told her we would bring her some.
I got a call from Taylor while I was at work yesterday saying we should go see her. I asked him how it was looking and he said she had gotten worse. She was in pain and it was making her sick. I left work to go home and meet Taylor so we could make the trip together and when we got to the facility she was groggy from the pain medicine but knew we were there. It was very hard to see because even throughout the last few months and weeks as she was getting weaker she still seemed like herself. Yesterday I could tell it wouldn’t be much longer. We spent time with her, told her how much we loved her and she told us the same. I held her hand while she dozed in and out of sleep from the medication. And I cried. I guilted myself for not spending more time with her, for not going by and seeing her more. I cried because I felt guilty for all of the times I had gone out to a brewery with my friends or had a lazy Saturday at home instead of making the 30 minute drive to go see her. And then I sobbed when I remembered the soup. I didn’t make the tomato soup and I didn’t bring her any after I told her I would. That one seemingly small thing that I am almost certain she didn’t remember was the final straw. It made me realize that I have spent the better part of the last 3+ months not letting myself grieve the inevitable loss of someone so incredibly important to me because I would feel overwhelming guilt for grieving the loss of someone I still had in my life while simultaneously guilting myself any time I did something fun or relaxing because it was time I could have spent with her. I cried the entire way home. I cried in the drive-thru as we were grabbing something to eat so we didn’t have to cook because it was late. I cried texting my mom about that damn soup. I likely spent a combined 4-5 hours crying yesterday evening and I feel confident in saying that almost half of that time I was crying about tomato soup (a first for me, which is surprising seeing as how much I enjoy it).
It’s not easy trying to put on a brave face and go about your normal routine when you know someone you love so, so much doesn’t have much time left. My chest felt heavy as I forced myself out of bed to get ready for work this morning. I cried after putting my makeup on. I cried in the car on the way to the office. I cried at my desk. I’m crying as I type this out. But my biggest supporters through all of this have reminded me of the most important thing when it comes to dealing with loss. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t make the tomato soup. It doesn’t matter that I spent time with my friends or being lazy on the couch instead of going up to Acworth. I have memories eating my grandmother’s tomato soup. I have the recipe for the soup. I have so many incredible memories from all of my 28 years involving my grandmother and, although it is incredibly hard since I am the Queen of Self Inflicted, Unwarranted Guilt, I can’t let the idea of not making a pot of tomato soup prevent me from grieving the loss of someone who I love so much. It is ok to grieve while still going through the daily routine. It is something I am trying to remind myself of.
So if anyone reading this finds themselves in a similar situation, remember the tomato soup. The memories I have from spending time with my grandmother and eating her tomato soup are so much more important than spending my time guilting myself for not making some to take to her, especially considering she likely has no recollection of the conversation in the first place.
As I wrap this incredibly emotional post up (there are wayyy too many feels going on for me right now and we all know how much I hate having feels), please keep my grandmother and my family in your thoughts. She is so very loved and while we know that she is ready for the next chapter, there’s no way for any of us to be.
**WOW WOW WOW my post has taken a turn for the better since I started putting it together! I took a break from writing to write this intro because I just found a party planning guide on the International OCD Foundation’s website and it DOES NOT disappoint!
TLDR: I’m using the Fundraising House Party Guide to plan a theoretical party to educate my friends and family on the intricacies of my OCD.
Happy OCD Awareness week! I feel weird using the word happy here because I’m pretty certain that I would be a lot happier if I wasn’t dealing with OCD in the first place but… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
As I predicted in last week’s post, I didn’t come up with anything fun or exciting this week. I did some research (took 5 minutes out of my lunch break to look at this website) to see get some inspiration. Unfortunately, my favorite one (host house party to raise funds) isn’t an option given that it is 2:00 on a Tuesday so I opted for social media and hashtags. And because I am all about transparency I also included some of the pictures (I took a lot. A. LOT) that I normally wouldn’t share because I look like such a dufus.
All super flattering pictures aside, I am really digging this OCD party planning guide. So much so that I am going to summarize it for all of you because it is #1 on my newly-created list of Things That Probably Don’t Need to Exist but Do Anyway.
Step 1: How to Host a Fundraising House Party
Here we learn that house parties can come in many forms. Is this a freshman year of college-style party? Will there be a keg involved? Jungle juice? Perhaps your friends would really love one of those murder mystery clue dinners that you briefly interrupt to request a monetary donation. It’s ok if you aren’t sure because this guide goes above and beyond by giving some suggestions. Pool party on a hot day? Wine and cheese gathering at your home? Sign. Me. Up.
Step 2: Steps to a Successful Fundraiser in Your Home
Two words: template invitations. Unless you want to be super OCD about the whole thing (see what I did there…) and create your own. Your invitation needs to mention that this party is a fundraiser and that there will be a presentation. Personally, I think I would take a different route and surprise all of my guests much like Michael does in the Dinner Party Episode. Consider including an envelope with your invitation (because instead of using an evite like the rest of human civilization you are sending it via dinosaur). Don’t forget to mention that donations are tax deductible. We don’t need the IRS asking why Susan tried to write off her $10 donation to the IOCDF. Last, but certainly not least, is to call and harass any guest who hasn’t sent an RSVP to let them know that their delivery dino is hoarding mail. As an added bonus, you can include your story on the invitation so that your guests know the ways OCD has impacted your life but also that you aren’t trying to scam them out of $10.
Page 5 shows the benefits of using Facebook, evites, and even Twitter (probably need to make this the first suggestion and not mailing a paper invite, my dudes. Also, why is the word ‘even’ in front of Twitter?) to help boost party attendance. For example, you can message a handful of your closest friends about your party so that it can get lost in a sea of Candy Crush invites and chain letters telling them to post the color of their bra to confuse all the men in social media land. One of my favorite tidbits is you can also “tweet” about it to your Twitter followers because anything with unnecessary quotation marks takes the sketch level to 11.
Step 3: Get That Money, Honey
First things first, make your guests put their name on a sign-in sheet when they arrive. That is a foolproof way to make sure they attend any future parties you throw. Have everyone crowd around you while you kill the party vibe by sharing your personal story about living with OCD. Once you’ve dug up enough anxiety by oversharing to all of your friends, have a respected and well-spoken member of the gathering (well, that eliminates almost anyone I invite to my parties) “call on the guests to make a donation.” What’s better than a guilt trip to donate money to a cause? Doing so in front of a group.
Okay, I am sold. Let’s do the damn thing.
Friends, please keep an eye out for my invitation. Though bear in mind that it might be a while until it arrives because I’ll be Fred Flinstoning these bad boys to ya’ll on evenings and weekends since I work full time.
*I know you all love my quick wit and sarcasm, and since I recognize my quick wit and sarcasm can come across as just me being a jerk, I made a donation to the Pediatric Campaign 4 Hope. One of my biggest coping mechanisms, for better or for worse, is humor.*
Hello, my dear friends. My apologies for the lack of consistent posts but I was lucky enough to catch a stomach virus Monday night and was out of commission all day Tuesday and most of Wednesday. Fun stuff! Anywho, I am back to almost normal and using my lunch break to update the masses while eating a plain, baked sweet potato for lunch (well I added ground cinnamon since I’m not a complete psychopath…) because I’m still waiting for the big break that turns blog writing into a full-time job.
There were a few posts I started over the last month or so that I was contemplating using today but since none of them were actually complete (hello procrastination! my dear, old friend) I decided to build off of a post I began working on when I first started the blog because it was perhaps 5% complete and I have a few other things I can add on to bring it up to a whopping 70% complete (my personal standard for actually posting something).
It’s been a few months that I’ve been navigating life with OCD and if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: I don’t want to just cope with it. My goal is to get to a point where I don’t feel the crippling anxiety every time I leave the house or think about every single Worst Case Scenario to the point that I can’t focus on anything aside from all of those things happening at once. I have made some progress, which is great, but I’m starting to notice seemingly small/routine things I do that are probably just another way OCD impacts my life. For example: I had a pretty nasty stomach virus Tuesday and Wednesday. I went to the doctor Tuesday, feeling as if my death was imminent, and when I got home I immediately changed out of the clothes I was wearing while at the doctor’s office for an hour (at most) and tossed them in a pile (a completely separate pile from the other piles of clothes on my side of the room) to await their fate. Yesterday afternoon I started a load of laundry, tossed Those Clothes in with it, and when I eventually stumbled upon them to fold I considered not wearing them ever again since I had worn them to the doctor when I was sick and I don’t want to get sick ever again (there are many flaws to this logic, and I know that). One thing to note here is that the thought of not wearing them wasn’t driven by germs but the fact that I wasn’t feeling well when I wore them. TL;DR: I realized how irrational the thought was but still thought that perhaps if I was to ever wear those leggings and that sweatshirt again I would get another stomach virus. But not from germs. Just because. I ended up folding them and putting them away (yay!) but part of that is because I actually really like those leggings and that sweatshirt, otherwise I might have actually considered donating them (a bit rude, tbh, seeing as how I didn’t want to get sick but some rando thinking they scored a great deal at the thrift store can). Unfortunately, this isn’t a new obsession/compulsion for me. I’ve been doing it for as long as I can remember (I touch more on that in a previous blog where my goal was to show how my OCD has evolved but instead just showed how nothing has changed and I’m still an anxiety-ridden weirdo). My therapist is going to have a SUPER FUN TIME listening to all of this when she gets back from vacation and I haven’t had a session in over a month!
Now, I know that my posts tend to weigh on the cynical side (WHAT?! NO WAY!) so I decided to mix things up and include some activities that help me when I feel myself on the verge of losing it. Please note: these things work great on their own but doing them consistently and not just when my life is in complete chaos is my ultimate goal.
Snuggling animals! (Ok this one I do pretty much all of the time but it needs to be included because it is most likely the easiest of all these things and, according to one scientific study, is also the most therapeutic*).
Cooking dinner – I love this one because it gives me the satisfaction of a routine and being able to follow things/check off a list. Plus, it helps save money AND what’s the point of working out if I’m eating the same way Doc Brown fueled the DeLorean at the end of Back to the Future. (Kyle Kinane reference, anyone…?)
going to the gym in the morning before work – This one is tricky because I loathe mornings and getting out of bed before 10:00 am but I never regret going and working out. Plus I have a great trainer, which is critical when you are on the verge of 30 but need the same amount of sleep as a 16-year-old.
spending time with family – Always a favorite. I include this one because it is very easy to get caught up and your day to day routine and let days, weeks, months etc. pass before having a phone call or grabbing dinner with people you’re close with, family or not. Make time for this, even if it means leaving work a few minutes early. Or calling out one day. Or buying the plane ticket. Or moving to a remote island (I kid, I kid).
As I try to wrap this giant run-on sentence up (welcome to what it’s like inside my head!), in my last blog I mentioned the infinity cube (which, unfortunately, does not give superpowers, despite its name leading one to think otherwise) which has helped me cut down on my picking. A pricier alternative, which I discovered last week, is buying a manual transmission car because its hard to pick at your cuticles when you need one hand to steer and the other to shift! Was that my intention when I bought the car? No. Am I still going to add it to the ‘pros’ section of buying said car? Abso-forking-lutely.
And lastly, next week is OCD Awareness week! My goal is (was? idk, we’ll see how motivated I am later in the week…) to do something fun and exciting but, in typical Alaina fashion, I will most likely wait until Sunday night to really put any effort into it and keep myself up all night with anxiety for not working on anything earlier.
*I conducted this study and was able to prove my hypothesis (IF I am sad and cuddle animals, THEN I will no longer be sad). Science rules.
Sorry I took a hiatus last week, it’s just that recently I have been lacking the motivation to do almost everything that is typically required of functioning humans. I’m just going through the motions, much like Squidward in the below GIF.
I’ll bounce back though, I always do. Unlike most millennial females, I really loathe fall *gasp* because I also loathe winter and fall is basically just a preview of winter with its diminishing daylight hours and plummeting temperatures (except for it is still in the 80s here in Atlanta). I just keep reminding myself to listen to my own advice.
So, how am I coping? With my favorite go-to: picking. Bet you didn’t see that coming!
Actually, you probably did. Because quitting picking has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever attempted and, to be honest, it isn’t going well (see below).
I have not been able to stop. The treatments I mentioned in my previous blog about picking have not worked. All hope is not lost though! One of my best friends, Drew, gave me an infinity cube fidget toy, which you can continuously fold in on itself, and it has helped tremendously. I keep it in my purse so I can grab it if I notice myself picking, which is about 99% of the time. I use it at my desk, sitting in traffic, hanging out and talking to people. I have zero reservations about using it in public because it has been such a help. Below is a candid picture of me using it to ease my anxiety while driving on the side of a mountain this past weekend (I am truly terrified of heights. I ended up crying twice on the side of that mountain).
A quick search on Amazon for ‘infinity cube fidget toy’ will give some options for those looking to give it a shot. It really has been the only thing that helps keep my fidgeting under control. I don’t know the exact details of where mine is from or the cost but they are relatively affordable, especially if your picking is as bad as mine. I would recommend a metal one, similar to this because I think a plastic one wouldn’t be as durable and I, personally, like the weight of mine.
There ya have it, folks! That’s all I got, really, because I don’t have the motivation to do much more.
What a week, aimirite? I’ve actually been saying that since approximately 1:00 Monday afternoon but, in all seriousness, it’s been a rough one. In all honesty, it’s been a rough year, but I am trying my absolute best to not let it get me down. My biggest takeaway from 2018 (so far, at least) is that it is okay to not be okay.
The unfortunate thing is that, as a Certified Adult™, you can’t let periods of not being okay take over your life. And THAT, my friends, is hard. I would be a liar if I told you it was easy. I’ve been wondering/borderline stressing over what to post next because I don’t have any great updates or advice to give. I’m still checking. I’m still picking. I’m still overwhelmed with anxiety to the point that I can’t sleep. And me still doing all of these things that I am supposed to be working on NOT doing amplifies it and makes it even worse.
I met with the heavenly angel that is PG (my therapist) on Monday and, as per usual, she gave me some great advice. It’s important that we have someone to help us through being not okay. This might seem like a glaringly obvious piece of advice but I tend to close myself off from the rest of the world when things go sideways (which has been almost all of 2018) and it is probably the worst thing I could do to try and help myself. I’ve lived this way for 28 years and it is not an easy habit to break. But it helps. If you can relate to me and/or The Grinch because your heart is an empty hole and you have garlic in your soul then I suggest giving the whole Let Someone Help You Feel Better thing a go.
(I relate to The Grinch way too much, by the way. I knew that but I didn’t KNOW that until I was looking up Grinch GIFs and had 10 different tabs open in Safari. I’ll narrow it down to the most relatable ones and include them below.)
You’re probably asking yourself, if you are even still reading, what the point of today’s post is. The person who has been here for me the most is my husband Taylor. To try to keep things light and fun I asked him some questions. *In true Alaina fashion, I included some responses and explanations if I felt they were needed.*
When did you first notice the checking?
TK: I really started to notice when we moved into our current neighborhood [five years ago]. It seemed to get worse after Gail moved out. That’s when I remember hearing you forcefully yanking on the door in the morning to make sure it was locked and constantly asking if the cats got out when we left.
Did you think it could be OCD or that I am just weird?
TK: Just weird. I knew you had anxiety issues but I never identified it as OCD.
AK: I am weird. But I also have OCD.
What were your thoughts when I was diagnosed with it?
TK: I was pretty indifferent. I was happy for you that you could have a title for it what was going on as well as a clear path to overcome your tendencies. That being said, I was super happy and proud of you for having to courage to talk to someone.
Have you noticed that there are times or situations where it gets worse?
TK: Absolutely. Anytime you are in a stressful situation. Anytime someone is talking to you about something that makes you uncomfortable. Anytime someone is talking to you directly even if it’s a light-hearted conversation. If you feel attention is directly on you, you get to picking. If you are bored, you subconsciously start picking. Stress, discomfort, anxiety, boredom.
AK: So basically all of the things.
What is the most frustrating part of being married to someone with OCD?
TK: Not being able to use appliances like the dishwasher and dryer when I am leaving the house. Trying to turn on items around the house to find out they have been unplugged (hair dryer, lamps, toasters, etc.). Also, not being able to cook without being home. Sometime I would like to step away from the house while I am making stock or low simmering a large pot of something. Obviously, I would never leave something that is a quick cook. However, if I’m making something that simmers for hours, I would love to be able to run to the store.
AK: Never, ever going to happen.
Do you have any advice to give someone who’s partner has or might have OCD?
TK: RUN! Jk ;). I love you to the stars and would not have you any other way. Just be patient and understanding. Don’t enable. Not enabling can be more challenging than it sounds. In the past, I thought I was helping by ensuring the cats didn’t get out or that everything was unplugged and the doors were locked. Come to find out, that is just another way for someone with OCD to “check”. What I thought was helping, was, in fact, doing the opposite. It helps to understand the triggers and how your partner can work to adjust their response to those triggers. The more you understand OCD, the more you can help. Be supportive but also hold him/her accountable to bettering themselves. Also, work on bettering yourself. You should never place expectations on your partner that you wouldn’t place on yourself. This holds true in any relationship whether or not your partner has OCD.
AK: The “to the stars part” started as me making fun of a scene from The Titanic. I felt the need to explain that since I hate having any feels (remember, empty heart/garlic soul?).
Do you have any advice on how to support someone with OCD?
TK: OCD is very similar to addiction. You are never cured. You are always in recovery. There is no quick fix. Love your partner and be supportive even if some of their actions drive you crazy. Know that it drives them crazy as well. As I mentioned before, understand the illness and process to better themselves so you don’t enable. Look into yourself. If you want someone to better themselves, lead by example. Grow together. Don’t come down on them if you feel like they aren’t making progress. There is so much going on in your partner’s brain that we never see or understand. There is a constant battle of emotions that is tearing your partner in 1,000 different direction and all we see is him/her running back upstairs to make sure the hairdryer is unplugged. If you get frustrated, try to talk to your partner when you are not heated. Your frustration causes him/her stress which begets more anxiety. This all leads to triggers for OCD tendencies. At the end of the day, you are in this together for better or worse.
AK: Alright, folks, if anyone wants to ask for some more advice from T please form an orderly line and understand that there is an upfront fee of $100.
So there you have it. You see what I mean? Find someone who is there for you and will help you. It’s okay to not be okay.
As promised, here are some Reasons I May/May Not Be The Grinch
Hello friends! There truly is nothing like a good ol’ three day weekend to prove that the Sunday Scaries are not exclusively reserved for Sundays.
Anyway, I survived the Scaries and am back to being a Barely Functioning, Supposed to Be Real Adult™ who spends her lunch break eating Cheerios and writing a blog. I’ve been pondering what to post throughout the weekend because, as much as I would love to have A+, top notch happenings to share with you, there aren’t that many things occurring in my day-to-day that are mildly helpful or entertaining. This morning, however, the universe had different plans (as it so often does) because I had a follow-up appointment with my psychiatrist to see if 1 month of medication and therapy has helped manage my OCD and anxiety. The great news is that both of these things have, although the physical act of getting to my appointment on time (8:20am) didn’t exactly help ease any anxiety (joking, kind of).
My doctor (who not the same person as my incredibly awesome therapist, PG) said something that stuck with me, similar to when PG gave me the life-changing “we need to be more understanding and compassionate to ourselves” pep talk. Doc K (I was going to abbreviate it DK but for some reason I didn’t want it to seem like I was calling him a dick, because he isn’t one) told me that we *vaguely gestures to surroundings, again* often say we want to get back to ‘normal’ or see other people who seem to have their ducks in a row and are jealous that we don’t have that level of ‘normal’ but, more often than not, we don’t know how to define the ideal ‘normal’. If there is one thing I have discovered since starting this blog, and this whole OCD saga, to be honest, is that almost everyone sees themselves as less than normal, whatever normal is to them. So instead of just saying “I want to be back to normal” (which I have said before), let’s set goals that we can actually use to measure our improvement instead of the generic ‘normal’ that (for me at least!) doesn’t have a definition.
BOOM, welcome to part two of my Ted Talk.
Hopefully that all made sense because my hour is almost up and I have yet to get an annual salary plus benefits from oversharing on the internet. Plus, as shown using the first GIF in this post, I’m not exactly functioning at 100% after a long weekend of new boot goofin’ and eating candy for breakfast.
I just found out there’s no such thing as the real world, just a lie you’ve got to rise above.
(I love me some John Mayer and I’m not afraid to admit it. Continuum is easily one of my top 5 favorite albums. Plus, I couldn’t get No Such Thing out of my head after I used it as the title AND that line is oddly relevant to the post. I also really love this song, which he is featured on, if you are a Herbie Hancock fan/still on the fence about John.)
Spotify users! Be sure to follow my obsessive-compulsive diaries playlist for some of my favorite groovy tunes. It is a delightfully random mix of new songs and old songs from a bunch of different genres. It’s a great playlist if you need a good dance party or if you need a cry. Or a crying dance party.
You guys are in for a treat. In this post, I will go over My Things in greater detail. I’ll also include some things I used to check but do not currently check, as well as some things that make me uncomfortable for no logical reason (this part is to keep it light and fun and make sure we can all have a good laugh/prevent us all from spiraling into a deep, dark depression). *Please note that I use the term logical here very loosely seeing as how my checking is driven by flawed logic (at best) that only I experience.
My Things, expanded:
The front door is locked. I will check it, check it again, recheck the recheck, etc.
The stove is off. I check each knob 3+ times, depending on how anxious I am. I have a gas stove now but I still did this when I had an electric one.
Dryer is off. I will open and close the dryer door a few times until I feel comfortable knowing it is off. I never leave the dryer running if I’m not home. It drives Taylor, my husband, insane.
Unplug the hair dryer. I don’t know why. I just really hate leaving things plugged in in general. Another one that annoys Taylor.
Turn off/unplug curling iron. Even though unplugging it guarantees it is off, I still check to make sure it is turned off JUST IN CASE, GOD FORBID I forget to unplug it (there’s a 99.999999999% chance I will not forget to unplug it). I have to make sure I unplug it and usually go back upstairs to check before I leave the house. I can’t remember the last time I straightened my hair but in the past, I did the same for a straightener. My OCD doesn’t discriminate on the type of styling tool I need to check.
Taking the same route to and from work, down to being in the same exact lane. I loathe using Waze (see below for my non-OCD reasoning, if you’re interested) because I need to know the route I am taking before I leave. Randomly having the Waze generated Boy Band harmonize the turn I need to take in 5 feet puts me in a panic. I take the interstate to work and back roads home. Every day I take the same route unless I am going on some exciting, post-work adventure (which never happens).
Following the same morning routine when getting ready for work. Brush teeth, plug in curling iron, do makeup, curl hair, get dressed. If I don’t follow this order then I face imminent doom.
I have to get in and out of the same side of the bed. Taylor travels for work so there are times when I have the entire bed to myself and could jump out on either side. But I don’t.
I love to make lists at work. It is how I am able to actually function. But if I start making a list and misspell something or don’t use consistent bullet points I have to start over completely. The list has to be perfect. Sometimes I’ll redo the list even if I technically didn’t mess anything up.
Cleaning in a particular order. This one is interesting to me because my OCD isn’t focused on cleanliness or organization (trust me). When I do clean the house it has to be in a particular order or else I will need to repeat steps/start over completely. If I vacuum before I dust then I will need to vacuum again because dust will fall onto the clean carpet. Luckily for me, I rarely get the motivation to clean this much! *sarcasm*
Making sure the animals (cats in particular) didn’t get out. I do not know why this is such a huge thing for me. It always has been. Long before I had adopted my own cats, I would risk being late to school just to run home and make sure the family cats hadn’t gotten out. Do I know that cats are usually well equipped to survive some time outside? Yes. Am I still going to run home and check to make sure they didn’t get out? Absolutely. I’m not ashamed to be a crazy cat lady (emphasis on the crazy…and the lady).
My Old Things:
Not changing out of the outfit, changing the channel, etc. of what I was wearing the last time I spoke to my mom/dad on the phone when I was at the other’s house on the weekends. Fun story: when I was in 1st grade or so I got this pillow in the shape of a cat and, when asked, one of my parents suggested I name it Lemon and the other suggested Orange. So, I named her Lemon Orange to avoid hurting any feelings. Lemon Orange went to college with me. I actually still have Lemon Orange but she is bedding in my dog’s crate because for some reason Taylor wasn’t 100% sold on the idea of me still sleeping with a 20+-year-old pillow named Lemon Orange. Also, my sister, Lauren, used to call Lemon Orange Lauren Orange and it made me so mad for some reason. But I digress…
Checking to make sure my mom or dad was still inside the house before I went to sleep.
…not gonna to lie, I thought this list would be a bit longer. Turns out the things I used to check/do, I still check/do. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
100% Normal Things That Make Me Anxiety:
Flat face trucks. They look mean and they make me uncomfortable. I’m also terrified of heights and 9 times out of 10 these trucks are the ones driving on the side of a mountain during monsoon season, or something equally scary and random. Its ok to laugh at this, I do it all the time.
My food can’t touch (My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving, making this a real, modern-day tragedy.)
REVOLVING DOORS. I loathe them. This one is probably because a few months ago a complete stranger used the same compartment of a revolving door as me. I’m still struggling to get over it, tbh.
Public restrooms. Not because of germs, but because I get stage fright and can’t go if anyone else is in there.
Sharing an elevator/forced small talk. This one is especially bad right now because of the air cast on my fractured foot.
Getting stuck in traffic on the interstate. I get claustrophobic and slightly panicky if I feel stuck.
I’m sure there are more. Honestly, the flat truck is probably the one I was most eager to share. I am equal parts curious and terrified of what exposure and response prevention therapy would look like for this one…
For starters, I have a degree in geography (super useful if you enjoy going to school with folks to wear the shoes with individual spaces for one’s toes) so I spent many, many hours and many, many dollars making maps, followed by spending the last 7 years at a Real Job making maps. I like to think that I have a pretty good understanding of cities in and around metro Atlanta. The final straw with Waze was when it had me get off of the interstate, travel west (my final destination was east!), then get back on the interstate at the next exit WHEN THERE WAS NO ACCIDENT OR ANYTHING. The only reason I used it that day was to try and avoid traffic. I deleted the app once the Boy Band told me I had arrived at my destination with a beautiful melody.