OCD Workarounds

One of my most nonsensical OCD annoyances right now is my time card obsession.  It constantly evolves and I just can't seem to shake it. 

My work time card is basically the bane of my existence.

It should be so simple... go to work, clock in, work, clock out.  Add the hours at the end of two weeks. Lots of people do this and don't give it a second thought.But instead, with my OCD, it turns into checking and double checking and docking time and worrying. So much worrying.

I ask myself so many "what ifs" related to work timing: 

What if you clocked in before you actually started working?  

What if you clocked out after you finished working, and the delay in opening the app means the clock already moved to the next minute... so now you're getting paid for an extra minute you didn't work?

What if the math is wrong and you're overcharging?

What if you weren't truly working the whole time and you're cheating?

It's always OCD worries and fears related to stealing and dishonesty...  Like just an over-the-top concern I will be getting money I didn't earn. Unfortunately, this leads to compulsions like docking time from myself when I get home. I logically understand that my fixation on this and minute by minute concern isn't normal and my boss would never expect me to do this, but I can't stop.    

I can't seem to get around it either.  I have tried tactics to stop the neurotic obsessing over this (ex. I downloaded a time card app that does the math for me, I text my mom right before I clock in and right after I clock out to have a backup log of the time), but I still worry about overcharging and not clocking in or out correctly.  

The issue is that OCD is amazing at workarounds. If you come up with a way to make things easier, your OCD can come up with a new way to make it hard.  For example, if I try to avoid my time docking compulsion, instead my OCD brain suggests maybe I should keep working a little bit more after I have clocked out to make sure I am not getting overpaid. And even though I now have an app for my time card, my OCD brain still wants me to double check the entries - I write each entry in my planner and double check my app entries against my daily texts to my mom.  To try to stop the worry that I didn't actually check, I make check marks and underlines to try to prove to myself that I did... but I find the worries are still creeping.  Ultimately, I know each compulsion is just feeding the problem. 

My therapist has suggested some Exposure Response Prevention (ERP) style work with this. She says to try just clocking in and out one day without giving in to my compulsion to dock time and to leave the office as soon as I clock out so that I can't give in to my compulsion to keep working.  Instead of the compulsions, I would just sit with the anxiety and reminding myself that I deserve to be paid for my work.  The goal is to see that I can overcome the anxiety and nothing bad will happen if I don't do the compulsions.  Getting to work, clocking in and out and not worrying any more about it is normal.  

But so far, I haven't been able to bring myself to do it.  My fear of time stealing is so great that I worry I won't be able to shake it and will go into full blown panic.  I'm not worried about going to jail or getting punished, I'm worried about being a bad person who steals.  It's such an intangible fear, and the anxiety around it so so big that day-to-day it always seems easier to just cut off a couple minutes than to risk feeling like a fraud.

But the tragedy is that those couple minutes daily add up.  Any fear of cheating myself or cheating my family out of the money I've earned is overpowered by the fear of theft, but I also feel guilty that I keep doing this when my husband works so hard.  At this point, I've tried so many different ways of dealing with the problem except for actually facing the anxiety.  I know ERP can be very successful, I just need to get the courage to do it.

If you're currently dreading your ERP homework, know that you are not alone. We just need to get up the courage to face it.  Today, I did my underlines and my check marks, but here is hoping that I can muster up that courage soon to try the ERP for this and finally work around all the OCD workarounds. 

Sayonara, Seratraline!

 

Well, here we are again...

Sayonara, Seratraline!

In August 2019, I wrote a post about the surprises in transitioning off of my OCD/anxiety medication.  Then, almost a year later in June 2020, as the Coronavirus pandemic made even the most mentally stable of us feel uneasy, I wrote a post about the lessons I learned from getting back on.

Now, it's April 2021 and as of Sunday, I am officially back off my meds.  My husband and I had planned to start a family last spring, and now we are hoping to try in the fall.  After speaking to my psychiatrist, we decided that I was doing well and it was worth a shot to try getting back off again.  

Ideal Scenario:  I continue to do well, see my therapist and keep my stress low so that I can stay off of the medication through pregnancy.  I get more into meditation and learn how to be zen while transforming into the physical embodiment of Gaya, mother goddess.  Then, as soon as I have the baby, I will go immediately back on a pill that has been studied as safe for lactating mothers.  Going on right away should help with any postpartum depression and anxiety, which I feel fortunate I already know to look out for.

Potential Plan B:  I realize within the next few months that this isn't feasible and my stress levels and anxiety will be more dangerous for pregnancy than getting back on medicine.  Because I got off now, I have time to figure this out and get back on and stable before we try in the fall. 

Potential Plan C:  I do fine before pregnancy but have to get back on something during pregnancy because the hormones take me to a dark place.  I'm already in contact and have a relationship with my psychiatrist, and she has helped a lot of mothers who have safely delivered babies while on medication, so she is prepared to help me tackle any blips along the way.

I am open to any of these possibilities - the important thing is to plan ahead.  There's a lot of stigma around mental health medication, especially for pregnant women, but for those of us who need it, we realize how important and life changing it can be.  Nobody knows your personal circumstances, and how you handle pregnancy and medication should be between you, your doctor and your support system.

Let me end with the same disclaimer as in my June 2020 post: Remember: I'm not a doctor, and I can only speak from my experience.  Since elementary school, I've tried a number of different OCD/Anxiety medications (from Zoloft to Luvox to Viibryd, just to name a few).  Some have worked better for me than others.  The best thing you can do is is to find a good psychiatrist, advocate for your needs and keep an open mind.  During these difficult times, don't forget to take care of yourself.

Back on OCD/Anxiety Meds - 6 Lessons

Off-Brand Zoloft!

It has been awhile since I've written, but let's be honest - Life is a little crazy right now for literally everyone.  The pandemic crisis is hard on everyone.  With major changes to social, professional, and family life, even without anxiety, it would be hard to process everything.

With OCD and anxiety, and off of my medication, things became unbearable.  Even before the civil unrest, I was struggling to cope with all the changes and the disappointments.  I quit my tutoring job and took on more hours at the appraisal firm I assist at, my husband and I decided to postpone our plans to start a family, I couldn't see my parents or friends like before, we couldn't go to Disney as planned... I was crying. A lot.  My anxiety was skyrocketing, and I was feeling depression and hopelessness.

So, after discussing how I was feeling with my therapist, it was clear that it was time to call the psychiatrist and admit that I needed some more help.  Here are 5 lessons I've learned getting back on OCD/Anxiety Meds:

1) It doesn't mean you have failed if you need to get back on medicine.

I was off my medicine for almost a year, and up until the COVID-19 crisis, I was actually doing pretty well.  I delayed getting back on the medicine because I couldn't help feeling like I was failing.  I wanted to be able to just suck it up.  I would never judge anyone else for being on medication, but it was hard to practice what I preach.  However, I ultimately was able to rationalize that getting a little help from medicine during one of the most stressful periods my generation has ever faced was nothing to feel shame about.  Also, I'm able to be on a much lower dose than before.  Small victories! 

2) It is okay to take things a day at a time.

One of the reasons I got off of medication in the first place is that I want to be off meds for pregnancy if possible, or at least on something that is safer than the meds I was on before.  Another reason I delayed getting back on medicine was the feeling that I was making a long term decision and worrying about pregnancy.  

However, with COVID-19, our plans to start a family have been postponed at least a year.  Worrying about it now is really getting ahead of myself (which my anxiety makes me fantastic at!).  My therapist and psychiatrist both assured me that I could taper off again later if I was feeling better, and my psychiatrist started me on something that is better tested for pregnancy in case I still need to stay on it.  

3) Something that didn't work years ago may work better now.

When I was in high school, Zoloft worked great for me for years.  At one point, I switched from brand name to generic Zoloft and it was a hot mess: lots of sadness and crying.  I switched back to Zoloft, but then when I stopped taking it for a bit, it didn't really work the same when I tried to get back on.  

When my psychiatrist suggested trying Zoloft again (now approximately a decade later), I was skeptical and I was even more skeptical when I realized I got the generic.  However, I'm glad I didn't close myself off to it because its actually working really well now at a fraction of my former dosage.  Mental health meds are weird. 

4) Side effects are real, but some do taper off!

Even on a dose that is at least a quarter what I've taken in the past, I still experienced some side effects when I started.  The first couple of days, I can only describe feeling WEIRD.  It just felt like something was wrong.  Then, like I've experienced when messing with my OCD meds before, my period was thrown off a bit.  However, there was also something very new: I started to have insomnia (the opposite of my norm!).  The good news is that after a couple of months, the insomnia has really tapered off and things seem to be regulating back to normal. 

5) You can't medicate away a global crisis.

Maybe this is obvious, but it's also important:  everyone is feeling anxiety right now.  COVID-19 is scary because of the unknowns - and that is what anxiety feeds on. My therapist has reminded me that everyone is struggling right now. With other crises also dominating the news cycle, from racial injustice to unemployment, it would actually be a little concerning if you weren't feeling anxious.  Medicine can help you get by, but it won't make these stressors completely disappear.

5) Adjusting to medication can be like effective dieting - the gradual changes do add up.

When you get on an SSRI like Zoloft, it isn't like an immediate change after the first dose.  However, when you find the right pill, you do slowly improve.  It really is like losing weight... you won't notice a major change night to night, but one day your brain just fits better.  I wanted to quit at first because all I felt were the side effects without feeling a benefit.  Now, a couple months out, I'm  really glad I trusted the process.

Remember: I'm not a doctor, and I can only speak from my experience.  Since elementary school, I've tried a number of different OCD/Anxiety medications (from Zoloft to Luvox to Viibryd, just to name a few).  Some have worked better for me than others.  The best thing you can do is is to find a good psychiatrist, advocate for your needs and keep an open mind.  During these difficult times, don't forget to take care of yourself.

Indirect Coronavirus Fears

Please let me go to the one place
I can thrive in a fanny pack.

So, I saw someone posted an article about OCD and the Coronavirus panic.  Obviously for anyone with health related OCD worries, this is a nightmare.  Germs! Contagion! Death! The media is constantly fanning the flames of fear that these people are already very capable of fanning on their own. 

But I'm not a person with health related OCD.  I am 30 years old and in good health.  I survived a bout with the flu a couple weeks ago!  I live by multiple world class hospital systems (Go Cleveland!) and am lucky enough to have good insurance should I need care.  If I get the Coronavirus, I have a feeling I'll be in the 97% that make it.

Does this mean that my OCD isn't getting exacerbated by this pandemic scare?

Of course not!

Even though I am not worried about personally dying from Coronavirus, as someone with OCD and anxiety, there are many indirect ways I am panicking about Coronavirus.

The main issue is that at the end of April, my parents have planned a beautiful trip to Disney World and Universal Studios.  It will be my husband's first time there.  It will be my last time there as a free adult before I try to start a family of my own.  We have meals planned and every day charted out for maximum enjoyment.

What if we get sick and can't go?  What if the virus causes them to shut down the park?  

Now, I recognize that it is super bratty and privileged when people are dying to worry about your vacation.  But before you write me off as the most selfish person on the planet, please also know that an additional fear that I have is that I will get Coronavirus and then infect someone else who then dies because of me.

I'm already worrying about how I will be worrying right before the vacation about getting sick.  Again, I am not worried about personally dying from this, and I'm not normally someone who lets a little cold stop me from doing what I normally do... but because of this virus scare I know if I have any little cough or throat scratch, I will start catastrophizing.   Any possible sign that I have caught Coronavirus will send me in a tailspin wondering if I should stay home to save the immunocompromised from my infection.

I have been doing what any unstable worrier does in 2020 and have been googling terms from "Coronavirus" and "Coronavirus Florida" to "Coronavirus Disney."  Of course, there are no good answers, and there isn't any way to know how things play out over the next few weeks.  

I am going to have to fight my nature not to get sucked into the media's panic and just try to look forward to the trip.  Now will just be a chance to practice that serenity prayer and accept the things I cannot change.  As they say, "Que sera sera."

Electric Worries

Unfortunately, my OCD has gotten much worse lately.  

As with any chronic mental health problem, there are bound to be ebbs and flows through life.  What is particularly interesting to me though is the way that obsessions and compulsions can shift focus.

Lately, I've been worried a lot more about electrical fires.  

I can't imagine why this specific fear would come alive now any more than at any other time, but here we are.  When I'm leaving the house, I sometimes get major anxiety that some Final Destination style nightmare will occur while I'm gone... The thought process goes something like this:

If you left your lamp or computer plugged in, even if it's off, what if somehow it creates a spark that starts a fire?  What if the fire spreads through the house?  What if then nobody realizes the dogs are in their crates and nobody gets to them in time? 

or...

What if the computer is plugged in and was left on the couch?  What if then it overheats and that starts a fire? What if the fire spreads through the house?  What if then nobody realizes the dogs are in their crates and nobody gets to them in time? 

or...

What if the drier was left on?  What if then it overheats and sets the clothes on fire? What if the fire spreads through the house?  What if then nobody realizes the dogs are in their crates and nobody gets to them in time? 

I am aware that none of these worries make any statistical sense.  Even if you can find articles on the internet where these unfortunate scenarios occurred, many people every day keep their electric devices plugged in and leave the house without burning down their homes.  

Logically, I understand that these fears are overblown.  Unfortunately, that won't stop me from worrying or checking, unplugging, and turning things off.

All these multi-step disaster scenarios stem from the same fear: something I do or neglect to do is going to kill my precious dogs.  Even if there is only a .001% chance of some horrible event occurring, that event is so horrible to me that the compulsion to check to unplug or make sure an adapter is turned off often prevails over rational thinking.

Sometimes it is great love that leads otherwise rational people to do seemingly irrational things.  I know I need to get a grip, but it helps to see and understand where the behavior is coming from.  

My advice for today is to look at your compulsions or the compulsions of someone you care about from a different perspective.  Rather than just seeing an OCD behavior as a brain glitch, try to consider the root of it.  Even if the behavior seems "crazy" at first, often the root of it is very relatable.  Understanding this can help you have better compassion for yourself and others.

Wherever you are with your OCD journey, trying to maintain compassion for yourself is key.  One day at a time, y'all.  We got this.

I'm Not Finishing This Book: Toxic Perfectionism Challenge

Growing up, I never read a lot outside of school because reading gave me a lot of anxiety.  

It was okay. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I would worry when I was assigned something to read that I hadn't read it completely or correctly.  I developed the compulsion to re-read and re-read because I was so concerned that I was lying about having read the assignment.  

To say I had actually done the reading, I felt like I had to carefully read every word.  At least once, my re-reading got so bad that I had to have my mom read out loud to me just so I could get through the assigned chapters.

As an adult, even as an English tutor, I'm rarely forced to read things anymore. I've actually gotten to enjoy reading some books for fun!  The lying concern doesn't have to play a role in pleasure reading.  However, I still can fall plague to this sense of toxic perfectionism in other ways.  

Even though nobody is giving me assignments anymore, I am currently feeling a sense of commitment to finish a book I have started.  I can think of a few books from the past that I quit, but this is a weird quirk issue that has become a problem recently. 

Probably over a year ago now, I started reading The Night Stalker by Philip Carlo.  I am a true crime fan, and I got through the beginning of the book pretty quickly.  The story is very interesting and the book is well written... but I ultimately became super disinterested during the long trial section.  I like reading about trials normally, but the way this one is presented, it just seems to drag on and on.  I'm on Page 340 of 447 and the idea of 100 more pages just seems like torture.

So, instead of quitting the book like a normal person, I've just gone back to not reading for fun.  I let the book sit in my nightstand. I brought it on a recent weekend getaway and carried its heavy weight in my bag.  On a random night, I might read a few pages, kidding myself that I'm finally going to finish...but I'm not even connected to the story at this point.  I don't remember who is who anymore.  So, night after night, the book waits.

During my The Night Stalker imprisonment, I did read a novel assigned at the college where I tutor (because I had to), but I haven't been able to do any pleasure reading.  There are other books that I actually want to read, but I haven't been able to because I am in the middle of this one.  I'm committed. I have a duty. 

This is nuts!

So, tonight, I'm going to start reading a different book.  Life is too short to be held back by some vague sense of anxiety disguised as something more honorable like dedication.  Not everything must be perfectly executed.  Not everything deserves your time and energy.  I will triumph over The Night Stalker.  

I hope that as you move into the new year, you can also find ways to leave behind any useless sense of obligation you have to the insignificant trivialities that anchor you down.  Here's to starting a new chapter. 💗

Four Surprises in Transitioning off My OCD Medication

Bii for now Viibryd!

With Luke and Lily as our puppies, we already have a family.  My heart is full, but my husband and I would still like to have human children someday.  The medication that I was on for OCD is not generally considered safe for pregnancy, so something had to change before we could move forward.

I found a psychiatrist with fertility experience, and through discussions with her and weighing pros and cons, we agreed I would try going off of my medication.  

This has been a big step for me.  I started on Zoloft when I was in grade school.  I've switched medications around a number of times since then, but I've almost always been on something.  The few times I have been off meds, it hasn't gone well - everything inevitably crashes, and I end up going back on pills.

I've had psychiatrists and therapists tell me that I might never be able to go without medication.  I've also been warned that sometimes when you have an anxiety disorder, your natural anxiety levels can get so high that they can prevent you from getting pregnant or cause issues for the baby.  In some cases, it is actually safer for mom and baby if the pregnant woman is on something, provided the medication is approved for pregnancy and everything is overseen by a doctor throughout.  

The pill I had been on the past few years was a relatively newer brand without much research in terms of pregnancy. Since I would have to transition to something else anyway, and since I had been pretty stable for awhile, my doctor and therapist agreed that I would try going "clean."  This way, I have some time to feel it out before we start family planning.  Ultimately, if it doesn't work, I'll get back on something that the doctor approves for pregnancy.

I have been off of the pills for a few months now.  It has not been easy, but it also has gone much smoother than previous attempts.  That said, here are the four biggest surprises so far:


1.  Life has become an emotional roller coaster.

The highs are higher and the lows are lower.  Small setbacks can send me crashing down and feeling hopeless, but one good day can offset a week of the blues.  For better and for worse, every emotion just seems to be hitting at a higher level.

2.  Sometimes declines are unconscious.

Have you ever put on 10 pounds?  You don't notice it as it comes on a half pound at a time, and then one day you realize your pants don't fit.  My OCD symptoms have similarly snuck up on me.  For example, I didn't really feel my reassurance seeking behaviors and intrusive thoughts increasing day by day.  However, I realize now that they are considerably worse than before and it is something I will need to keep an eye on personally and in therapy.

3.  The anxiety and depression increased more than the OCD symptoms.

I was worried about my OCD getting out of line, but it is actually the anxiety and depression that have been the bigger bullies now that the medicine is gone.  Something as simple as balancing my schedule can seem overwhelmingly daunting, and I am constantly jumping to worst case scenarios in my head.  I wake up many mornings with a sense of dread completely unrelated to any intrusive thought.  So far, this generalized anxiety has been one of the toughest things to battle.

4.  It threw off my cycle.

I had no idea that getting off my medication would have an effect on the timing of my periods.  For a few months, I felt like I was getting my period every couple of weeks.  It wasn't until I went to the gynecologist that he explained that psychotropic medication changes can throw off your cycle because it is your brain that tells your body when to have a period (makes sense!).  To be safe, he did some tests, but everything else looks fine.  Luckily, he told me it should balance out, and this last month my timing seems to be returning to normal.


I'm about four months out now, and I just have to continue to take it a day at a time.  Maybe I will find a way to successfully use the tools from therapy to manage my symptoms on my own.  Maybe I will have to go back on some sort of medication.  For anyone out there on meds right now, there is no shame in needing medication.  Just like any other illness, you prefer not to have to remember a pill every day or worry about side effects, but if you need the pills you take them.  If going back on is what is best for me and my potential offspring, so be it.  But for now, Laura's Adventures in Brain Chemistry will continue.  Onward and (hopefully) upward!

When You Forget What's Troubling You

Sometimes I have a disturbing or terrible thought and I can fixate on it until it balloons and spirals.  I mean, that's the O in OCD right?  I obsess over things, and I worry and I hem and I haw and I put myself in tailspins repeatedly.

My face basically always.

But when you worry as often as I do, sometimes your worrying gets interrupted.  Someone around might ask you a question.  You might get a text message.  You might even just stumble on another worry and go off on a different anxiety tangent for awhile.

I can't even tell you how many times I have forgotten what I am worrying about.

Now, for anyone who has struggled with an intrusive thought trap, that at first sounds like a dream.  

You forgot the worry?  What a relief!  Now you can move on!

Ha.  Hahahahaha.

I wish it could be that simple. 

But alas, when I forget it turns into a different kind of torment.  My OCD and anxiety is very physical as well as mental.  When I'm anxious, I feel it in the back of my throat and in my chest - a clenching telling me, "Something is wrong."  

The tragedy is that I will try to remember what that something is, and if I can't remember, then I start to worry that I can't remember.  

What if it was important?  What if it was something bad?  What if it was urgent? What if I was supposed to do something about whatever it was? 

The other sick part is that when I can't manage to recall what that original worry is, instead of going away, the anxiety will just finds another worry.  It's a lose-lose scenario where I either remember what was originally upsetting me or find another reason to be upset.  

On the bright side, the forgetting proves that my mind can move away from the disturbing concerns that sometimes seem inescapable.  Plus, the physical manifestations of anxiety can be worked on.  In past sessions, my therapist and I have talked about exercises as simple as deep breathing that can help alleviate the physical symptoms of an anxious mind.  As always, just one step at a time.  

Now if I can just forget when I forget...

The Reality of 13 Going on 30

When the Jennifer Garner movie 13 Going On 30 came out in 2004, I was 15.  The premise

Me at 13 at my Bat Mitzvah.

was fun and fantastical:  A 13-year-old girl wakes up one day as her 30-year-old self as if by magic.  She then has to figure out how to be 30.  Many jokes stem from her floundering about, feeling like she has no idea what she's doing.

Seeing it in theaters as a teenager was fun, but rewatching it recently, it didn't seem like such a fantasy movie after all.  I turn 30 on Saturday, and it kind of feels like I was a teenager yesterday, blinked and woke up like this.

Looking back on the past seventeen years, so many things are still the same...

• I'm still struggling with many of the same obsessive fears.
• I still want to turn to an adult for answers to like 95% of questions.
• I still doubt myself and feel like I have no idea what I'm doing basically ever.
• I still have not mastered eyeliner.

I don't feel like an adult.  I'm about to be 30... shouldn't I feel more together?  Shouldn't I feel more competent?  

At the same time, when I talked with some 20-year-olds the other day, I felt 500 years old.  It feels like being stuck in-between where I was and where I should be.

Time feels like it's racing faster than I can keep up.  My mom tells me to "make the most of what your life brings" and "enjoy your life," but this is sometimes easier said than done.  I'm an emotional mess a lot of the time now!  I see the path to sentimental old lady: each day I feel one step closer to becoming my great grandmother who cried at greeting cards.  

Getting older can make anyone existential, and with OCD and anxiety it can be especially hard not to focus on fear until it poisons the happy moments (Jennifer Scinto writes beautifully about this in an article for The Mighty).  As far as goals for my 30s, I hope to find more inner peace.  I hope to do a better job of actually applying suggestions from therapy even when it's hard or daunting.  I hope to spend less time worrying and complaining and more time finding joy in my day-to-day.  

Sometimes, when I think about my birthday, I feel overwhelmed and like crying.  But, as my dad has reminded me, getting older certainly beats the alternative.  For anyone freaking out about aging, I feel the most empowered when I embrace it with pride.  The years of life experience have value and there's no need to shy away from them.

I've been putting off starting the gratitude journal my therapist recommended, but I know there is so much to be grateful for: I have a husband who understands and supports me.  I have wonderful family and friends.  Even if I can no longer drink without a hangover, I can still walk and swim and play with my puppies.  So this Saturday, I hope to put on a dress and my birthday crown and smile.  

Ninety Percent Sure

Read: Risk VERY VERY Small

A few weeks ago, after so much waiting, a number of anxious phone calls and a spout of me crying in a small hospital room, we finally got the results of the pre-pregnancy genetics tests back.

On the test that screened for over 200 potential genetic problems, we discovered that Nathan and I are each carriers for one disease.  However, since it is not the same disease, the risk that we have an infected child is 1/4,400 (0.0227%) for one of the diseases and t 1/3,520 (0.0284%) for the other. 

As for the other genetic test for Nathan, the results came back with a 90% chance that he doesn't have the disease.  Combined with the fact that he doesn't meet the clinical criteria, the doctor felt pretty confident that he does not have it.  However, he did say that they could be even more sure if they compared the results with a blood test from a family member.

Now, this is where I feel I really had a triumph over my OCD tendencies.  Something I struggle with that is very common with OCD and anxiety is that I find it very hard to live with any doubt.  OCD feeds on doubt, and so you want to be 100% sure of everything.  This can lead to all sorts of unhealthy behaviors from checking and rechecking to unhealthily obsessing over horrible possibilities that have only a small remote chance of either being true or becoming true.

You have a feeling that somehow you will be on the wrong side of statistics.  If there's a 97% chance that something is good, it is very easy for someone with OCD like mine to focus on that lingering 3%.  The most ridiculous part is that this fixation on small chances and the feeling that the unlikely occurrence is sure to happen only acts up when considering improbable bad outcomes.  

For example, if someone told me there was a 2% chance I would die tomorrow, I would be very uncomfortable.  I would spend the whole day thinking I was going to hit that 2%.  I wouldn't feel any safety in the 98% chance that I would be okay - I would feel doomed.  But, if it was reversed and someone told me there was a 98% chance I would to die tomorrow, I wouldn't focus on the 2% chance of survival and feel a lot of hope.  It isn't about a misunderstanding of how numbers or chances work as much as constantly fearing the worst while also expecting it as unavoidable.

But when we got these results, I was satisfied.   The odds from the overall couples' screening were clearly astronomically small, but I even feel good about the 90% assurance on Nate's major test.  I heard the results and didn't want to keep digging.

I know we can never with 100% certainty prove the negative.  Even comparing the results to a family member's results, the doctor admits that they still could not make a 100% guarantee.  The truth is that seeking any assurance higher than 90% won't really make me feel any safer.  Starting a family means accepting a lot more risk in my life.  I know by now that the OCD fears and worries aren't going to magically disappear, but accepting these results and feeling good about moving forward was a step in the right direction.  

So, here's to moving forward even when you're only 90% sure.  Sometimes, that's the best thing to do. :)

I'm an Email Hoarder.

I've never felt like I understood hoarding.  I know it's a very real OCD compulsion that some people have, and I even know a few hoarders, but I just didn't feel like I could relate.

But as I was looking at my email inbox the other day, and I got it.

I have over 2300 messages in my AOL (yes, I'm almost 30) email inbox that date back to 2009, and that is after a recent purge.  That figure also isn't counting the messages I have saved outside of the inbox in folders with titles like "Funny Past,"  "Tutoring," "Travel," and "Old Teacher Comments." 

I showed my sister and she told me it gave her anxiety to see.  But deleting emails from certain people is very unnerving and uncomfortable for me.

Why do I still have "Fwd: Cat-Faucet Video" and "One for the Dogs" from 10 years ago? 

There's this horribly part of my brain that gets switched on whenever I want to delete an old email from a loved one.  My thoughts start hitting on this terrifying realization: Someday that person is going to die and they won't be able to send you email anymore.

I don't want to lose a reminder that my mom sent me a care package in college or something she thought would make me smile.  This doesn't explain every email though, because I have emails from college that aren't even from loved ones.  

Why can't I delete certain messages from my sorority days?  I realized that in many ways it's actually for a similar reason to why I keep the messages from people I care about.  It's because of this tragic fact: I know that I can never get the messages back.

Holding on to those emails helps me hold on to this past that is gone forever.  There's something comforting in being able to look at those old messages from when life was simpler.  So, I feel this compulsion to keep them.  Time never stops, but the emails are some way to hold on to these moments that just seem to keep slipping further and further away.  

I know not every hoarder has these same worries, but I imagine that some hoarders of items experience similar feelings.  It wasn't until recently that I recognized the connection in myself.  

I feel like I can actually relate and understand hoarding in a whole new way now.  So to all the OCD hoarders out there - I want you to know that even in uncluttered houses, some of us are having the same fears...  My clutter is just hidden in cyberspace.

What would an OCD song sound like?

Happy to skip these tracks

"What would an OCD song sound like?"  my coworker asked last week.  He's a music man and often connects experience with sound.  We had a brief discussion about it, and he concluded, "That's something you could blog about."

So here we are.  I've seen articles on music related to mental health before, and there are certainly some great songs about what it's like to have mental illness.  I also know that music can be therapeutic.

Still, given music's power to inspire feelings, it was interesting to consider how the traumatic parts of OCD would SOUND.

My mind immediately went to horror film soundtracks.  This is fairly logical, as OCD and anxiety play on fear, but certain songs seem to capture this kind of fear better than others (The Exorcist has a great theme, for example, but it doesn't match).  That said, here are my top three picks for songs that capture the feeling of experiencing OCD.

3.  Halloween Theme

One of the best horror movie themes of all time, the progression of the song also really fits the feeling of when anxiety and OCD combine.  The song starts out frantic, reminding me of that alert that comes over me - the general sense that something is wrong.  Then a more sinister sound drops, just like the feeling in the pit of your stomach when your OCD finds a target and the worrying begins.  

2. Psycho Theme

The incessant, alarm-like sound of the classic Hitchcock theme captures the discomfort of being hit by an unexpected OCD trigger and feeling unable to get the thought out of your mind. The thoughts are repetitive and feel inescapable, just like the loud blaring of this song.

1.  Jaws Theme

If there is a song that better captures OCD's sense of impending doom, I haven't heard it.  Like OCD, the theme starts out slow and foreboding and builds to nightmarish panic.  Intrusive thoughts can work the same way. One frightening thought comes along like a beat.  It would be harmless on its own, but soon your mind repeats and builds up the thought until you feel barraged and overwhelmed by worry, questions and concern.

I'd love to hear other people's opinions on this subject.  If you have OCD or suffer from any other mental illness, can you think of a song that sounds the way it feels?

OCD and Puppy Parenthood

My perfect Luke & Lily.

On November 4th, my husband and I adopted two adorable puppies from PAWS (Public Animal Welfare Society).  Born in August, Luke and Lily are a mix of Shiba Inu, Pug, and Pomeranian.  They are a brother and sister from the same litter, and they are so cute it hurts.

What I've learned in a little over a month?  Puppy parenting is hard for anyone. Specifically though, puppy parenting is an OCD Nightmare.  Examples:

• My house is now a pee house.  They pee and poop where they please while learning to go outside.  
• I worry that I'm not doing right by them. What if I'm not being a good enough mommy?  I feel guilt and hate myself for things like sleeping in.
• I double checked the lock (I'm not even a lock checker usually) when I left the house because I know my babies are in the house.
• I feel guilt when I get angry or upset or frustrated at them.  I judge and worry about any thoughts I have about the puppies that I label as "bad."
• I feel guilt or worry if I tugged at their leashes too hard or picked them up and hurt them. 
• I won't let them have stick treats in their cage when we leave because I'm worried they'll choke.  Their safety is now a big concern.

Even given all of these things, I wouldn't trade my puppies for the world.  OCD attacks what you care about, but you can't let it take away what you love most.  Avoiding having puppies would only let the OCD win and let the fears maintain their power.  Having these puppies may challenge me every day, but I know that the exposure is making me stronger.  I know that each day I fight through I am better off than the day before.  

I hope other people struggling with the same types of fears are also able to work through and grow rather than live a life without dogs.  Dogs are so pure and kind - They remind us of what is really important: family, food, and naptime.

A world without dogs, even without anxiety, would not be a happy world for me.  Luke and Lily are my triumph, and I will work to get through my anxieties so I can be there for them.  Being their mom is one of the greatest privileges of my life.  I know it will make me a better person.

Plus, naps with puppies are even better than naps alone. 

Cracked Hands

Not a 90-year-old's hands. Mine.

Generalizations exist because they are true in some cases: Take the caricature of the OCD-hand-washer.

Not everyone with OCD is afraid of germs or contamination and washes their hands too much... but some of us do.  Unfortunately, lately I myself have fallen into the hand washing trap more.


This is especially annoying because one of my early symptoms of OCD was excessive hand washing.  I still remember this time I was watching SpongeBob and kept having to get up and wash my hands because I touched the floor.  It happened enough during one episode that it was an "aha moment" making me realize I had a problem.

Hand washing issues can take different forms.  Even after I stopped washing my hands too often, I struggled more with washing them too long when I got started.  How much soap is enough?  How long is enough?  With my OCD, if I go by what feels "right," I am often over-washing.

I have actually been doing relatively well for a long time with it, but now living in a new house with more cleaning responsibilities has somewhat reignited my hand washing and excessive cleaning proclivities.

When I clean dishes, I always want to wash my hands before and after...  Having new puppies means more messes and more hand washing...  I also probably wash my hands too often during the process of cooking because I worry about contamination (My mom's fear of raw chicken has become well instilled in me after many years).

My issues make me dread situations where I know I will have to wash my hands.  I'm very fortunate that I am still pretty under control, but I hate having to worry about how much soap it will take or how long it will take to feel clean.  Notice the choice of words: it is not about being clean as much as the feeling of being clean.  It becomes about cleaning until you know you won't feel anxious about it.

With the washing and the colder weather coming in, my hands look horrifying.  They hurt and I hate looking at them, but they are also an important reminder that my work is not finished.  Sometimes the OCD tendencies you feel are behind you crawl back.  In some ways this is a tragedy, but getting down on yourself for slipping up doesn't help.

Wherever you find yourself, you just need to keep moving forward.  The battles you fought before can be won again.  

Oh, and moisturizer can help too!

OCD and Processing Sexual Assault

It's OCD Awareness week 2018, and I wanted to write a post that would help bring to light a lesser-known impact of OCD.  

Given the recent discussions of sexual assault and violence against women, I thought it would make sense to share my small story and discuss how OCD can impact these already difficult experiences.  Whatever your political affiliation, I think we can all agree that any instance of sexual assault is a tragedy.

When I was in high school, I slept over at a friend's house one night- let's call her Tiffany.  That morning, I woke up to the feeling of someone's hand on my chest.

Groggy, only half-awake and disoriented from sleep, I opened my eyes to see Tiffany's brother standing over me.  He retracted his hand from under my shirt and backed away.  I watched confused and didn't scream or move...  I just fell back asleep.

When fully woke up later, the whole situation seemed so bizarre that I thought maybe it was a dream... but it felt so REAL.  

That is when the OCD part of me started to creep in with self-doubt.  My OCD started making me question the memory.  Did I REALLY feel something?  Was I SURE?  Wouldn't someone in that situation scream or grab the person's arm or shout? Was it possible it was just a particularly vivid dream?  

OCD craves definitive proof, and I had none.  

I told nobody - not even my mother, who I told everything.  I was not 100% positive.  My OCD had always given me an irrational, magnified fear of lying, and I didn't KNOW what the truth was.  

I also didn't want to lose Tiffany as a friend because she was really important to me.  I didn't want my mom to start a war.  I didn't want to be called a liar, and I really didn't want to be one: even today, I consider false accusations particularly heinous. 

I only knew two things for sure: I wasn't physically hurt and I wasn't traumatized. 

I came to a decision to just let it go.  Since I couldn't prove it happened, I figured I would be better off assuming it didn't.  I didn't treat Tiffany any differently afterward, and I carried on as if it was a dream.

I never even gave it that much thought until years later when he was arrested for a crime that validated my experience.  The day I learned was this weird relief.  I finally told my mom about what had happened. It made sense now, and I felt a very real sense of vindication.

But then the OCD guilt started to creep in.  What if I should have said something earlier?  Had something similar happened to any other girls? Had something worse happened to any of them? Had he gotten to anyone else because I didn't speak up?  

Please know that I do not assert dramatic victimhood: I consider myself very lucky that this incident was a relatively minor thing, and I do not feel like my experience is in the same category as most sexual assault cases.  Still, it has given me some perspective on how weird it is to process these kinds of incidents.  

Reading accounts from survivors of much more intense violations, I find that even people without anxiety disorders experience similar feelings to the ones my OCD amplified, from self-doubt to guilt.  I have also seen how weird it is to look back on it now.  All I have are the faintest glimpses of memory - mainly the sense of confusion and the strange unexpected feeling of someone's hand.  

I don't remember what Tiffany and I did that night or if anyone else was there.  I don't remember what I was wearing. I don't even remember exactly how old I was.  

Over a decade later, none of these details seem to matter.  I am fortunate that it was such a relatively insignificant moment in an otherwise extremely fortunate childhood.  

That being said, I know one question will always haunt me, "Why didn't you scream?"

Death Tacos

I'm not much of a cook.

My chef when I'm away from home!

I just never really needed to be before.  But, now that I'm a married lady, I decided it was high time to learn.

The big problem is that at the moment I work long hours (like 9:30 am to 7:00 pm) and sometimes come home pretty late.  Enter the magic of the slow cooker.  I can prepare in the morning and it is ready to go when I get home.  Perfect.

Well, it should have been anyway.  But last week on Thursday morning while I was trying to put together a recipe for beef tacos, I realized we didn't have a can opener for the Roma tomatoes.  

I had to open the can with a juice can opener, stabbing around the edges.  I was horrified that there might be basically pieces of shrapnel metal in this beef.  What if somehow a piece fell in and then Nate's throat got sliced open?

I then told my mom about the recipe and she (the queen of all things OCD kitchen related) asked if I had put enough water in the slow cooker.

I hadn't put any water in.  I even poured the water out of the tomatoes can.  The recipe didn't ask for water.

My mom now informed me while I was on the way to work that I may burn the house down.

Great.  So now I have to worry about the metal and a fire.

At this point, mom put the icing on the OCD cake and asked, "Did you check the date on the beef?"

Of course, I hadn't.  My OCD has not developed well in the kitchen arena, mainly because I haven't been in the kitchen that much.  Now I was on alert though.  These tacos risked internal bleeding, fire, and food poisoning.

Should we even eat them?

Mom, too horrified to hold back and without being asked, actually came to my house and put water in the slow cooker.  So, when I arrived home that night, our house was very much not on fire.  At this point, I had to make a choice about the other risks.  

Do we eat the tacos or not?

I warned Nate about the metal, but (in what I consider a triumph) we decided to go forward with the meal.  

And you know what?  Those tacos were so good, we each had three.

I am happy to report that we have both survived the incident and I feel a step closer to tackling OCD in the kitchen.  Small victories are still worth celebrating.

"So, what's your OCD thing?"

We're not just switch flippers.

You tell someone that you have OCD, and often that person's response is, "Oh, so what do you OCD about?" 

Please stop casually asking this question.

Don't feel bad if you have done it before... it seriously happens all the time.  I get it actually, and it's kind of sweet in a way.

Based on a basic understanding of OCD, you think I'm a little quirky.  Expecting that my answer will be related to hand washing or checking the toaster three times, why not ask? 

What you don't realize is that based on the reality of OCD what you have really just asked me is, "What are your biggest and most shameful worries and fears and how are you irrationally coping with them?"

Compulsions like hand-washing are performed in response to obsessions - major worries and fears that incessantly taunt their victims.  Some people with OCD do not even have observable compulsions and are mainly plagued by the obsessive thought aspect.  These issues do not make for light, casual conversation.

The "What's your OCD thing?" question reveals how little the average person knows about what OCD really is.  To be fair to the average person, even doctors don't always know.  Yesterday at my annual physical when I mentioned OCD to my new doctor she asked a similar question.  This is an educated woman with a degree in medicine, and her question showed me how surface-level psych training must be for family doctors. 

It's a tragedy that there is so little general knowledge on OCD, but there are still ways to be supportive to someone who reveals this part of their mental health history to you.  Here are four quick tips:

1.  If a coworker or acquaintance mentions that his OCD is bothering him, try asking how you can support him. 

2.  If a good friend tells you that she has OCD in private, admit that you do not know much about it but that you are there to listen to whatever she wants to share.  Try to let her control the conversation and what she reveals.

3.  In serious discussions of mental health with anyone, try to respond intentionally without casually brushing it off, making assumptions or cracking jokes.

4. Remember that it is okay to realize that you are in over your head.  Even therapists aren't experts on every mental health problem!  If a friend reveals something to you that you think may be a sign that this person is losing control and could be in danger or dangerous, admit that you are not an expert and try to get help from someone who is!