A False Start?

The last few days have been relatively anxiety free for me.  I'd like to run around screaming that I'm cured, but I've been here before and I know that this feeling is relatively short lived.

Perhaps it's because I started this blog.  Perhaps it's because I have made an effort to keep my brain busy thinking other things.  Maybe it's because I've started to take my therapy seriously and dive into The OCD Workbook.  No matter what it is, the downside is that in another day or so, history tells me that I'll have another issue to freak out about.

Years ago I thought I might have OCD, but I was so young that I didn't really know what else to do about it other than read up on the internet.  I didn't tell anyone - I didn't think they'd take me seriously.  So instead I read voraciously.  The internet is a horrible place when it comes to self diagnosing.  Even worse when you have The Doubting Disease (OCD).

While I don't remember much about what I looked up, I remember a website that categorized OCD people into 4 categories.  It's obviously not that easily broken down, but it explained to me that people with this disorder tend to fall into one category or another (or more than one at the same time...the lines get blurred).  The interwebs said you can be a Checker, a Washer, a Counter, or the fourth option.  Unfortunately I don't remember what that is.

These three categorizations are really the most well known and well parodied characteristics of OCD.  It's a little discouraging that people can be so neatly organized into one category or another.  It's not that easy.  Take me for instance.  If I had to put myself under a heading, it wouldn't be any of those three.  Sure I check things a lot, and I definitely count.  I've managed to somehow not fall into the washing category and while I can imagine what a horror that is for those who do have to go through it, I thank my lucky stars I don't.

If you had to put me into a category, it'd be a Worrier.  And for those who know me, I'm sure they'd say that's an understatement.  I'm sure for them it's more like I'm a Worrier.

I'd worry that I was in trouble, that I was sick (but didn't know it yet.  Don't ask me what I was sick with...couldn't tell ya), that I had offended someone, upset my parents, insulted my friends, didn't do my job correctly, lost my keys/wallet/cell phone, didn't show enough empathy or sympathy, wasn't polite enough to someone, was spending too much money, would never get out of debt, was drinking too much/giving myself scerosis, would have a heart attack soon if I didn't pick up better eating habits...

You get the picture.

It would drive me nuts.  I'd be a constant ball of anxiety, and it was exhausting.  Actually, it was exhausting.

The truth is - I haven't entirely learned how to let all of that go.  I still have a baseline of about 10% anxiety all the time.  I don't know what I'm anxious or nervous about - I just know I am.  But I'm slowly learning that all that shit up there that I'd spend hours a day thinking about...it doesn't freaking matter.  There are days I know I'm going to back track and find something to sit and chew my fingernails about.  But hopefully those days are becoming few and far between.

Will I wake up tomorrow and think of something that I forgot to do or didn't mean to say and then harp on it for a while?  Probably.  There's only one way to find out.  The thing to watch for though, is to see how fast and efficiently I deal with it and then promptly stop dealing with it.  I get a little faster every week.  (Not days...that's TOO fast for me at this moment).

Initiation

It seems like every new beginning must start with a rite of passage, an initiation.  Mine is the fact that in reality I'm not "new to this" - infact I'm old to this.  This is not my first blog, this is not the first time I've had the idea for this blog.  I've finished high school, college, and post graduate work.  I'm also not a new comer to this disorder.  It has plagued me for as long as my memories go back.  I may not have seen the signs and symptoms for what they really were back then - maybe childhood indiscretion or an overzealousness for doing things right...the first time.

And I hate making promises that I'm not necessarily able to keep, especially ones that are so finite.  But at this stage, it is my intention to make this my last fight with the disorder that takes over my brain on a daily basis.

I'm an Obsessive Compulsive.

Sadly I just had the internal debate about if I should say I have OCD or if I should say I'm an Obsessive Compulsive.  What's the difference?  Probably nothing.  I think it comes down to if you have the disorder or the disorder has you.  Right now, unfortunately, the disorder has me.

Although I'm willing to admit that after living so long with my thoughts and internal debates it's hard to remove myself from the disorder.  At some point, in some way, it becomes a part of you.  I'm not sure if I could be "myself" if I didn't check to make sure my hair straightener was unplugged and back in its place 7 times.

And so I start this blog - not sure at all of my intentions to do so.  To help?  To brag?  To whine?  To hope someone reads this?

Who knows.