We played outside, and I didn’t let myself over-check on them, just when it was quiet for too long.
I didn’t remind them about the road at all, and they didn’t go near it, either.
We didn’t over-apply sunscreen.
I went inside for a few minutes, even, just to grab a sweater — and to see if I could.
I did stop my oldest from throwing sand into the wind and his face, but this I think was legitimate.
I enjoyed my afternoon with them. I wasn’t exhausted at bedtime. I cleaned the basement after they went to sleep, even, I had so much energy remaining. I wasn’t grumpy, or upsettable, or irritated, or…anything.
I had no idea it had gotten so bad.
I want to begin this with an explicit warning: I’m going to document my treatment without fluffing past difficult terms or subjects, as it’s integral to the success of this kind of therapy that I do zero avoidance of any subject. There are thus subjects in here that could trigger someone sensitive to certain topics. For example, harm to children, harm to spouses, chronic illness, and car safety will come up here. …
I realized (while writing the last bit) that I should write through what the temperature metaphor is and how I use it.
I guess I should go back a little, too.
If it really is OCD that I have (and as of right now, I’m not convinced), I’ve had it my entire life. I can remember having looping thoughts and repeating words/phrases in my head since I was small enough to be in the pumpkin seat thing on shopping carts:
Safe to say, I’ve had this looping thoughts thing going on forever. There’s more to it than just thoughts, of…
This hasn’t been an easy week. I had a ton of trouble concentrating. There was this stupid loop going on:
Why can’t I just get over it? Pick one Thing…get it done? It sounds easy. It even sounds like it should be easy while the loop is going on. But it isn’t easy.
It almost physically hurts, whatever ridiculous game this is, to go do one of the things. What about the trailing consequences of not doing one and doing the other? What if we didn’t think through them all??
It’s just ridiculous. It makes me feel like I’m ridiculous…
Yesterday, I was a complete lump. A room in our home, previously rented by a family member working in the area, became empty overnight. The person moved to a new and better job, a major win for them! And I’m delighted for their success and to have a little more space around here. But for some ridiculous reason, the concept of a room in my house being now-empty, needing to have purpose assigned to it suddenly, was almost physically present.
I could hardly move yesterday. I couldn’t work because I needed to clean a now-empty room, but I couldn’t clean…
I went through the formal diagnosis process. The kind person who gave me the tests was very patient and extremely kind about my ridiculousness and endless questions. It still sucked — I think it has to. Hours of questionnaires and quizzes and ratings and yeah. But it’s done, and I have my fancy formal diagnosis written up in a many-page report, and I have next steps, and I’m ready to go.
So, I have a to-do list. Good, good, lists I can do.
Second, read some books.
Third, attend said appointment.
Fourth, reanalyze medication (and this…
I finally have a word for the way my stupid head works. I have a diagnosis that ties all the various “issues” I’ve experienced into a neat package — and it’s simultaneously liberating and infuriating.
I have severe OCD. Not, like, internet-funny “OCD”. Not funny at all OCD, actually. Like I once took 14 showers over 3 hours and did 4 loads of laundry in the nude (in a dorm) because I couldn’t get my clothes and my body simultaneously clean. Or like I once poured isopropyl alcohol over my lady bits (do not do this ever) because I’d sat…
I have OCD. I have severe OCD, and I’ve had it my entire life. Now I’m getting treatment, and it feels like self-death, so I’m blogging progress to feel useful.