8 Reasons I Cried During Disney's Aladdin

Cue the water works.

I have been transitioning off of my OCD/anxiety medication, and to say it has been an emotional roller coaster would be an understatement.  

I experience waves of feelings with such intensity that it overwhelms me.  Unfortunately, a lot of these feelings are also negative - from anger to profound sadness.

Well, I saw the live action remake of Disney's Aladdin while in the middle of this transition period.  The original Disney classic came out in 1992 when I was three and was very important to me as a little girl.  With all the nostalgia about to ensue, the situation was ripe for a breakdown.

And the breakdown was real.  So much crying.  Overt sobs at one point.  Don't get me wrong, the movie was beautiful, but I was also in a state.  Nostalgia is hard, but it's even harder without medicine.  

Please note the SPOILER ALERT here if somehow you are not familiar with the Aladdin story.  (Also, please go and watch the classic cartoon immediately and then go see the remake!)  Here, for your viewing pleasure, I've compiled a list of reasons that an emotionally unstable, anxious, unmedicated 29-year-old woman cried during a Disney movie remake.

Pre-Film 

1.  The Music in the Lion King Trailer  (Hans Zimmer got me.  Also just the idea of Mufasa.)

2.  The Walt Disney World Commercial (Being at Disney was so wonderful.  My family is the best family.  What if I don't get to go again?  When did I get so old?  I don't want to get old.  I don't want my parents to get old.)

The Film Begins

3.  The start of "Friend Like Me" (Will Smith is trying his best but Robin Williams will never be matched.  And now he's gone and that light in the world won't be repeated.)

4.  Jasmine is perfect looking.  (How can someone be that beautiful?  I'm getting old.  Why am I not that beautiful?  All I wanted when I was little was to be Jasmine.  Imagine what an honor to actually play that dream role.)

5.  Aladdin pretends to fall off the balcony on to the magic carpet.  ("A Whole New World" is about to be sung.  I'm not ready.)

6.  "A Whole New World"  (I am not ready. Overtly sobbing through the whole thing and barely seeing any of the actual footage.)

7.  Aladdin sets the genie free. (What a nice thing to do.  Imagine what it would it feel like to be free for the first time.)

8.  Aladdin and Jasmine get married. (They're in love and it's a wedding and it's beautiful.)

I realized stepping away from it that most of these are ridiculous tear triggers that my anxiety and emotions just took off with (Obviously not Mufasa.  Always cry for Mufasa).  I hope that this is a temporary issue and that things will balance out.  

For now, I am lucky that I have a family of saints who are able to find humor in the situation and take it in stride.  Sitting between my husband and my mom in that movie theatre, I had support on both sides and hands to hold - and they only laughed at me a little.  Sometimes, when the emotions get too intense, that's the triumph: we just have to laugh.

The Midas Touch

My hubby recently had to get an oil change and it reminded me of this amazing situation that occurred right before our wedding. Amid all the wedding planning chaos, I didn't get to write about it then, but it is definitely worth sharing.

Wedding planning is stressful, and when you are trying to process the gravity of the step you're about to take, balance the emotions associated it, work three different jobs with three different schedules, and go about necessary errands... it isn't always easy to stay calm, cool and collected.

Healing cars and hearts.

Different needs tend to collide at once, and I found myself with a car that needed a check-up and very little time to do it.  After much stressing over scheduling, by some miracle I found a time to setup to check in at our local Midas.

And then I learned that I wasn't going to be able to make the appointment.

This was the moment I cracked.  Between stress and anxiety and a jam packed schedule, I had reached my overwhelm limit and started crying: drunk-sorority-girl-at-a-frat-party-who-just-got-dumped level crying.

So, naturally, I decided it was fine in this state to call and cancel my appointment with Midas.

I picked up my cell phone and dialed, letting the man at the end of the line know that I was extremely sorry, but I couldn't bring in my car today because something had come up.  It is unclear how much of this message really got across clearly because crying Laura is an incomprehensible hot mess.

I will never forget the way he reacted.

He let me know that it was no problem.  Then, with genuine concern in his voice, he asked me if everything was okay.  He said that I sounded really upset and if I needed to talk, I could feel free to stop by Midas and he would be happy to talk about whatever it was.

I reassured him that I would be fine, and as I hung up I already felt somewhat better from finding this unlikely ally.  

As women, we are generally taught that other women will be our strongest emotional support.  Whether we like it or not, in America women are raised to express emotions and empathy while we rear men for independence.   As a culture, men are taught to hold back their feelings: "Boys don't cry."  With this mindset, it is common to see men who have no idea how to react to a woman in tears and are very off-put by intense emotional displays. 

But, in that moment, here was this man...and this wasn't even just an average man.  This was a man's man: the kind who works on cars for a living.  And yet, here he was, recognizing suffering in a stranger and trying to offer some sort of comfort, not wanting to let me off of the phone until he felt sure that I was okay.

It was unexpected in the most refreshing way to see someone who was that traditionally masculine who still had developed emotional sensitivity.  It would be great if our culture moved more in this direction, not only for the sake of supporting women but also for the mental health of our men, who should feel free to explore their emotions and communicate about feelings without judgement or ridicule.

When I told my fiancé (now husband) the story, we both had to laugh that I had become so hysterical that even the man at Midas was like, "Someone needs to help this person."  However, I hope that someday we live in a world where this is the norm, where both men and women can recognize strangers in crisis and try to do their little bit to help.  A world where mental health stigma has been replaced with understanding and empathy.  That would certainly be a triumph.

Meanwhile, I will remain a customer of Midas for life.  

"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!

The Pain of Cyberbullies and Internet Trolls

The kindness of strangers.

Oh, the wonders of the internet!  It is a magical place: a place where I can see almost unlimited pictures of puppies and hedgehogs, a place where I can share my story and make meaningful connections with people across the world, and (sadly) a place where I can be randomly insulted at any time.

I would like to share with you a story from last Tuesday evening.  

Background:  There was a man from an OCD support group that I had reached out to in September of 2016.  I wanted to ask him his opinion on some of the recent drama that had transpired in an OCD facebook group we had joined.  I reached out to this particular man about it because he had a different group himself and I felt the need to talk to someone else about this weirdness.  

He agreed with me about the odd Facebook group situation.  We spoke a few times and shared a number of pleasant conversations about OCD, facebook and blogging.  We didn't speak often, but when we did he was always very nice and we were both supportive of each other.  Though he was in another country and almost a decade my senior, it was nice to meet someone who was facing similar demons and who worked on OCD advocacy.

In February 2017, we had a brief conversation, and then I didn't hear from him until one evening in May 2017.  I responded expecting normal pleasantries and asked for an update on the book he had said he was writing.  His response?

"May I see the mounds?!
As in your huge tits 
Go on"

This was followed by a missed Facebook call and finally the message "No worries."

I just didn't respond.  

This was not how we spoke to each other.  In our first conversation he mentioned his girlfriend and I spoke about my boyfriend.  While he had made an occasional flirty comment before, it always seemed to be in good fun and he was always respectful. I didn't understand where this came from, but I certainly didn't need to be sexually harassed online.

To his credit, the next day he messaged me apologizing saying that he was drunk.  However, I chose not to reply to his apology.  Though we had chatted a few times, I considered his outburst a pretty significant breach of boundaries.  The consumption of alcohol is not an excuse for harassment, and I did not care to continue speaking.  At that point, I considered the matter closed.

Then comes Tuesday. I was perusing Facebook, minding my own business, when I received the following message from this man:

"They're fine udders
Pity about the face
You look like an old woman
Bet you love to knit"

10 months without a word, and out of the blue boom.  Another mention of my boobs, followed by a nasty dig at my looks, completed by a laughable conclusion.  Where did this come from?

I hate to admit it, but my anxiety and self doubt had me looking at my pictures and trying to figure out what made me look old.  The self-blame is easy and natural for me.  However, recognizing the ridiculousness of such a reaction, I started to ask myself what the comment said about the commenter.

That is where the real tragedy comes in here.  I started to think about the kind of pain someone must be experiencing to feel the need to lash out at people online.  I started wondering what kind of need someone is trying to fill when by cutting down someone else from afar, unable to even witness any reaction.  What satisfaction did typing these things to a relative stranger give to this man?

Also, what do these bullies hope to accomplish?  Cyberbullies have literally contributed to suicide.  I would assume most of them are not sadistic enough to hope for this result, but that begs the question... what exactly were you hoping for here, guys?  

Do these bullies want their targets to hurt the way that they hurt? Are some of them seeking some kind of twisted justice?  In the case of the man who messaged me, for example... was he so mad that I had not accepted his apology that he felt he needed to get back at me for it all this time later?

At my tutoring job recently, a student was looking at research articles related to cyberbullying.   One of the articles described how there are even groups of internet trolls who specifically target funeral pages (I could not believe that this would be at all widespread, but apparently it is very real and has been for awhile.  Check out this article from 2011 describing the problem.)  

With all the wonderful things a person could spend time doing on the internet (ex. There is literally an entire Facebook group dedicated to "Disapproving Corgis"), how bad does a person have to feel about him or herself to be spending otherwise free time trying to tear down other people? 

Happy people do not become cyberbullies or internet trolls.

Please do not get me wrong here.  While pain may be a reason for cyberbullying, I do not believe there is any excuse for it.  Cyberbullying is cowardly, cruel and destructive.  However, I do think there is a benefit in recognizing that cyberbullies are not coming from a place of strength or power.  

If you are ever harassed online, either directly or anonymously, remind yourself of this.  Do not let the opinions and rantings of troubled minds determine how you judge and value yourself.  Repeat the wise words of Coco Chanel, "I don't care what you think about me.  I don't think about you at all."

And to the guy who harassed me:  I hope you work through whatever's going on and find peace.

Bring Your Fiancé To Therapy Day

Life sentence. :)

So, my fiancé who is normally out of town Wednesday mornings happened to be in town a couple of weeks ago when I had a therapy appointment scheduled.  I knew he had been curious about how best to support me when I'm having an OCD or anxiety crisis, so I decided to bring him in to therapy.

While my therapist gave him some nice advice and a good handout with some strategies for coaching me, she also gave him one piece of advice that I did NOT appreciate.  

He told her about a particular instance where I was crying inconsolably at 3 am over something I had no control over and asked her what he could do next time.  She said he could go to another room and go to sleep. 

Are you for real, lady?

Now I understand this perspective if crying in panic was a nightly habit... even if it was a weekly habit or bimonthly habit.  Obviously if someone is irrationally upset and having hysterical breakdowns late into the night on the regular, that person should not expect a partner to stay up and suffer every single time.

But that is not the case with me.  Not even close.  This was a very upsetting circumstance regarding a family member that lead to what I still see as genuinely justifiable sadness for that person's current situation and potential poor prospects for the future.  

When I was crying, did anxiety lead me to catastrophize?  Absolutely.  But in many ways, this situation was a catastrophe without any help from my anxiety-ridden brain.

One of the tragedies of having anxiety and OCD is that you can often fall prey to "Boy Who Cried Wolf" syndrome.  You get anxious and upset often enough that when something is really bad and you are reasonably upset, people tend to still see you as unreasonable.  

My therapist may have many years of experience with anxious patients, but I can tell you what I know based on 28 years of being me:  If my fiancé had gotten up and walked out to sleep on the couch that night while I was panicking, he would not only have had a panicking and upset fiancée at 3 am.  No, that would have quickly transformed into an extremely hurt, angry, panicking and upset fiancée at 3 am.  

I let my fiancé know that I was not okay with the therapist's conclusion on this issue, and we talked it over.  I think he agreed at least in part with my side.  

It is true that you cannot always be the best judge of what you need, but a therapist's advice won't perfectly apply to every situation you have either.  You have to fit that advice into your life in a way that works for you, and try to make strategies and suggestions fit your individual situation.

Ultimately, I'm glad that my fiancé came with me to therapy if only that it opened up more lines of communication on these issues.  I'm very lucky to have a partner with me on my fight against OCD and anxiety.  Navigating these obstacles will be a challenge, but one I know we can face together.

OCD Week and the Importance of Awareness

Sometimes, it's the society that's really insane.

It's 2017 OCD Week!  I can't believe it has been a year already.  Once again, it is time to raise our voices together to try to build more awareness about what OCD really is.

This week comes every year right around Halloween.  I was actually at a haunted house recently that reminded me of how important OCD Week really is.

I hadn't been to a haunted house in like 10 years, but my fiancé and I were looking for something fun and different to do.  And it was fun.  Four different themed haunted houses with pop-out scares... including one simply titled "Insane Asylum."

Now, I'm not one of those people who demands complete political correctness at all times. I understand why the "Insane Asylum" has become a Halloween staple. Mentally ill can sometimes mean unpredictable, which can in turn sometimes mean dangerous, which is something that people fear.  

But the problem is, most mentally ill people are not dangerous; they're just tortured and hurting.  On top of that, a number of the mentally ill people who are "dangerous" are only in danger of causing harm to themselves.

Insane asylums are all but gone at this point, because the scariest part of them was not the patients themselves but how many people were mistreated. If you actually look into the history of "Insane Asylums", it is very disturbing and horrifying... but not in the fun Halloween way.  I had to try and put those realities behind me and just enjoy the rest of the night, facing more "fun" villains like clowns and masked monsters.

But I couldn't help but realize that I have considered committing myself in the past to some sort of mental health facility.  I have never been dangerous, but more than once I have been so scared and overwhelmed by the intrusive thoughts that accompany OCD that I have considered seeking refuge somewhere that intensive treatment could be provided.  

I was lucky enough to have family support.  I had a diagnosis and I had access to outpatient mental healthcare.  I was secure enough in my position that I didn't feel the need to hide that something was wrong or deny that I had a mental illness that needed treatment.  Unfortunately, many are not so lucky.

I know someone who is currently facing serious mental health issues.  She not only clearly struggles with some mental illness, she also deals with some other problems as well.  The worst part is, I'm not sure that she knows life can be any better.  Her family does not discuss such matters.  Their pride and the stigma related to any mental "defect" stop them from dealing with the problems.

I hope that soon we can all get to the point that we stop judging people for the mental problems that they face.  I hope that enough people raise awareness that we stop seeing the mentally ill as haunted house characters, and start to see them as real people.  The less stigma attached to mental illness, the more people will feel like they can come forward and get the help that they need.

Therapy and medication are nothing to be ashamed of.  Whether it is OCD or Schizophrenia or Borderline Personality Disorder... it is okay to admit you have a problem.  Working to become the best person that you can be... acknowledging and facing your shortcomings and making changes to fix them?That's bravery.

A Pre-Mother's Day Post

I think it's important to make a post in the spirit of Mother's Day.  My mom has always been my rock through OCD and anxiety.

Whenever I've gone through a hard time, from my first really bad OCD experience in elementary school through college and beyond, my mom has stood by my side.  She's been an advocate for me when I couldn't advocate for myself.

She has listened to me through intrusive thoughts, laughed with me over weird compulsions, and always been completely supportive while I've gone through all this OCD nonsense. 

Mom, you are the reason behind every triumph.  I will never be able to thank you enough for everything that you have done and continue to do for me.

Here's to you, ma.