thoughts on life, the mind, pain, mental illness & wellness. and related poetry.
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I began my brand new blog by planning out and writing a post about the “top 5 things I learned since being diagnosed with OCD.” I wrote an entire post! It was informative and funny. It allowed readers to get to know me through the context of my illness and recovery. Then this little voice kept popping up. Anyone with OCD knows the little voice. It’s the doubter, the over-thinker, over-analyzer and worst-case scenario builder. The little voice prevented me from posting the piece. “What if the information is wrong?” “what if I accidentally plagiarized?” “What if someone reads what I wrote and takes it as advice instead of just me sharing my personal experience?” “What if I trigger someone’s OCD symptoms or worse??” What if… what if… what if… ?
You see, I have had symptoms of OCD since childhood. However, my mental health really started to decline around the time I graduated from college. I began checking locks, checking the stove, washing my hands ritualistically, checking to make sure I didn’t hit someone with my car. These were just the things I was aware of. The visible compulsions. I looked up my symptoms and came to the conclusion that I probably had OCD. Despite knowing that I was an “anxious” person, I had no idea that my obsessive irrational fears were OCD as well. I had no idea that my constant fears revolving around making a mistake at work was OCD. I had no idea that my frequent and intense fear of harming my loved ones inadvertently (despite desperately wishing them no harm) was OCD.
It took me a very long time to seek the proper help that I needed despite being educated and working in healthcare. It was a terrifying time. Luckily this past January I received diagnoses of depression and severe OCD and started therapy and medication. Finding the right mental health professional was a scary first step but was absolutely the best thing I ever did for myself.
I have had wonderful success over the past several months with Exposure and Response Prevention and Mindfulness in conjunction with medication; however, I obviously still struggle. My OCD is triggered constantly. I am able to utilize what I have learned much of the time. But sometimes, OCD wins. Remember when I mentioned that blog post that triggered my doubting mind to go berserk? That was one of those times.
It was one section of the blog post in particular. I had brilliantly titled the section “You can’t outthink OCD.” It highlighted an anecdote about how I sometimes become hyper-aware of sensations in my body and obsess about the various medical anomalies that could potentially be transpiring. I went on to say that during those times a part of me knows that I am most likely feeling anxiety and yet another part knows that there is a chance something could actually be wrong, and wants to determine if it is “real”. All of this is true, it happens in various scenarios and the mental review is dizzying and could go on indefinitely. I concluded that if I were to continue to obsess about and try to solve the dilemma, I will never find the answer I am seeking. (Basically, stop worrying!)
Sounds great. Except… A week ago I had a panic attack. The muscles in my extremities began to twitch intermittently and I convinced myself that I was having serotonin syndrome due to being on multiple SSRIs and that I was facing certain death. I couldn’t sleep and was feeling extreme anxiety and chest pains. I practiced a body scan meditation and was eventually able to relax and go to sleep. The panic resolved. But the twitching didn’t! I went back and forth in my head…
“Am I making this up?” “Is this real?” “Am I just anxious” “I know I am anxious” “Am I anxious and having something real happen?” “How do I tell the difference?” “If I report every single sensation I could be deemed crazy.” “But if I don’t report an important symptom I will be labeled stupid!”
I eventually did report the symptom to my doctor and she determined that I had a buildup of serotonin in my system and decreased the dose of one of my anti-depressants … JUST LIKE I THOUGHT!
Sigh.
I want to have a solution. I want to be able to wrap this up in a neat and tidy bow. I hate the feeling of uncertainty that comes with this disorder and wanting to both quell the anxiety while giving attention to that which is critical. I agree with my assessment that “you can’t outthink OCD”. It is a vicious circle. However, I still desperately wish I had an answer for how to approach these scenarios.
I left my job last week after being on medical leave for the past several months. My official resignation letter was short. However, I reflected and continued to write about the short time I spent working in hospice long after I completed the initial letter. It was one of the most gratifying jobs and simultaneously one of the most terrible jobs I have ever had. I write this “letter” to no one in particular.
It is with mixed feelings that I have decided not to return to work upon the completion of my leave of absence. This is the right decision for me, without question. However, I will miss my co-workers as well as the privilege I held to witness everyday miracles.
People nearing the end of their precious lives and their loved ones kindly invited me into their homes. In many situations my role took a backseat to simply observing the delicate balance between life and death. When entering those sacred spaces, I took my place in the interwoven connection all beings share. Most people cannot say such profound things about their jobs! My sensitive nature overflowed with love and compassion on a daily basis; however, the emotional toll of caring for the dying as well as the demands of a very fast-paced work environment overwhelmed me.
Many people thrive on stress. Others, like me, are sucked dry. Encouragement to find “work-life balance” seemed like a cruel joke. It is something I have struggled with for my entire career. And now, with my mental and physical health under threat, I can no longer ignore my own needs. When I am ready to work again, I will explore a different path. And I am so very excited by the possibilities.
I will always be thankful for having learned the art of Hospice. Even though I can never work in that setting again, I will remember my co-workers fondly, and hold the important work they are doing in the highest regard.
My husband stopped at the card aisle to pick out a Father’s Day card as I felt my feet carry me away from the greeting cards and towards the candy. Any other aisle, really. I picked out some mints, and then I found myself walking back to where I had left him. In an out of character move, I began to flip through the cards. The first one was a classic “Dad joke” about letting your kids play outside, but later on being kind enough to let them back inside. I chuckled out loud, despite having heard the joke previously. “God I miss buying Father’s Day cards!”, I exclaimed. Out loud. I allowed myself to feel a wave of sadness. My heart quivered and my belly clenched. I took a deep breath and noticed it pass. As I reached for another card I paused and felt the heavy paper in my hands, the earth beneath my feet and my husband’s loving presence beside me. I noticed the rise and fall of my chest as I took one more deep breath and kept reading. I soon found myself smiling and giggling at more “Dad jokes.”
What had just happened? From the outside, it may have seemed like nothing.
Last year in that same situation, I was most likely sulking in the card aisle pushing my emotions down and thinking about how unfair it is that my Dad died so young. How he missed so many Father’s Days. How he missed all my major milestones. Graduation from High School, College, my wedding. How I would go through the motions and “put on a good face” for my husband. I’d go to the various Father’s day activities on his side of the family, but would wallow in self-pity the whole time.
This year, something internal is different. I have been working hard at therapy, taking medication for depression and Obsessive-Compulsive disorder, meditating daily, and learning mindfulness. I’ve been prioritizing taking care of myself. One of the benefits of my mindfulness practice is the ability to notice my thoughts without getting lost in them. I am no longer stuck, tumbling down into a bottomless abyss. I like to think of mindfulness like the weather in the sky of the mind. It doesn’t change the storm. It does allow you to feel the rain, listen to the thunder, and notice it pass over without judging it as a bad or good experience.
Every day is a struggle, but moments where I can calmly relate to my feelings without becoming weighed down by emotion and I can return to the present without becoming lost in thought are up-lifting. This Father’s Day I give myself permission to feel emotions as they come up. This Father’s Day I don’t have to hide.