OCD and Me

I love to sleep. Not like a normal person loves to sleep, not even like a Koala bear likes to sleep. If I could, I am pretty sure I would sleep 24 hours a day. Ok, maybe 23 because I love to eat too. There is a reason though, that I love to sleep so much. I have intrusive thoughts, obsessively intrusive thoughts and sleep is my escape. Sleep is the only time they stop, and I am not exaggerating at all. Sometimes it feels like my brain is actually tingling and trying to catch its breath, like it’s tired. My brain is being overworked and over used, never thought I’d say that. I get stuck, and if you don’t know what this means let me try to explain it to you. Scenario: I am leaving the bathroom and as I put one foot out of the door an intrusive thought pops into my head, usually a really unpleasant thought. I am literally stuck in this doorway with one foot in and one foot out. I’m stuck inside my brain and my body can’t move, this overwhelming fear floods through my veins. My mind is spiraling out. of. control. So, when you have been doing this for so long you know, the thoughts and the compulsions are so familiar you start to just kind of go into autopilot trying to rid yourself of this thought by basically rethinking it. Over and over and over and over and over and over until it “feels right.” These are compulsions.

So, here I am in the doorway of this bathroom stuck. The office phone starts ringing and I start to panic because I need to hurry up and get myself “unstuck” but that just makes it worse. Like way worse. So there goes that, I did not answer the phone and now I am going to lose my job and my livelihood and my car and my house and now I am crying in the doorway of this stupid bathroom with one foot in and one foot out and I am literally yelling out loud at myself in this moment. Thank goodness, I work alone.

I look and feel absolutely crazy.

They say I am not, they say that this is a disorder that plagues so many people and that I am not alone. Sometimes hearing that makes me feel better, but sometimes it just doesn’t. I still feel alone and crazy and helpless and fucking exhausted. I know better though, it took me a long time to speak these words out loud. It took me a long time to really truly tell someone what is going on in my head. Like what is really going on and not just watered-down versions of my OCD. I told someone and for that moment I could breath. I’m not alone, you’re not alone. I am going to have to fight this my entire life and some days are going to fucking suck way more than others. But, I am not alone anymore in my mind and spiraling out of control. I have peers and those peers have problems and some of those problems are the same as mine. I have the ability to reach out, speak up and maybe hold someone else’s hand through this journey as someone once held mine. I have spoken my fears out loud and I will continue to speak them.

I have OCD and I am an ear to lend or a shoulder to cry on.