5 Lessons From Getting COVID With OCD and Anxiety

After my fully-vaccinated husband got COVID in July and I didn't, I honestly thought I might never get the virus.  

My irrelevant negative rapid test. 
PCR came back positive.

However, as we've learned, COVID is full of surprises.  After learning of a potential exposure prior to Thanksgiving, I decided to get a PCR test to be safe even though I had no symptoms.  The email came just over 2 days later: Positive.

Tuesday was my only real day of symptoms: mild congestion and sneezes.   These also may have been due to the booster shot I received that Monday or dust from my office move... we will never know.  Since then, other than some random sneezes, my COVID has been invisible.  My anxiety and OCD, on the other hand, are here as usual if not exacerbated by this whole situation.  Here are five lessons that I've learned from this experience of processing a COVID diagnosis as someone with OCD and anxiety:

Lesson #1:  COVID Triggers OCD Differently in Different People

I've always been someone who has OCD worries about getting other people sick more than someone who has OCD worries about getting sick myself.  Have I considered the possibility that I could end up with bad health outcomes from this diagnosis?  Sure.  But I worry more about people who may have been exposed to me before I knew. There is so much fear surrounding COVID, and your OCD can take that fear in different directions depending on your unique themes. For people who incessantly worry about their own health, the worries could easily go in that direction instead.  People can also worry about how a diagnosis will disrupt their lives more than any health issue (How would I handle it with work?  Will I have to miss a trip/wedding?)  There isn't a one-size-fits-all way to worry about this. OCD can be creative!

Lesson #2:  OCD therapy can in some ways prepares you for calmer COVID risk analysis.

People with OCD and anxiety can often struggle with appropriate risk analysis.  Like I will turn off one electric power strip in my room before I leave the house on the extremely off-chance it would somehow overheat, catch fire and burn it down.  I am perfectly aware that's extremely unlikely to happen outside of a Final Destination movie, and there are other things I probably should worry about that I don't.  In therapy, I learned the technique of talking myself through some major fears to see that they weren't really as rational or likely as the panic originally lead me to feel.  This has been a helpful skill with COVID in many ways when trying not to spiral.  

For example, I have have a coworker who is particularly high risk, and it would be easy with my brain to panic that I was going to give him COVID and he could get really sick or even die.  However, thinking the risk through logically helps me realize that isn't a likely outcome (Examples of reasons not to expect the worst: Not everyone who is exposed gets it; Even people who live in the same house don't all get it; We are both double-vaccinated; As soon as I learned I was exposed, I masked up in the office; I hadn't been around him that much in the past week before my positive test; Even in at risk populations, not everyone with COVID gets extremely ill.)  Unfortunately, terrible outcomes have occurred with COVID, and we can't just throw caution to the wind, but for sanity it is important not to constantly jump to the worst case scenario. 

Lesson #3:  Coronavirus subreddits are like anxiety heroin.

Oh my gosh what a dangerous world Reddit can be if you have anxiety and it's hungry for doom to feed on.  Literally at any time of day, I can go on Reddit and go to r/Coronavirus and see articles about how we are all going down.  My anxiety is always looking for something to latch on to, and what better place could there be? Between the clickbait titles and the fatalist comment section, you can always find some information to confirm your worst nightmares have a chance of coming true.  Advice to myself and others like me: Stop checking this before bed. 

Lesson #4:  Following COVID guidelines can be a privilege.

My heart goes out to anyone with anxiety whose employer is writing their own rules.  I am very fortunate to have an employer who is letting me follow the guidelines set by the CDC and Ohio Department of Health, and also lucky that my husband can work remotely while he is in the window of concern, but I know that many other people are at the whims of their employer's policies right now.  

I have a friend who works at a school, and they are so understaffed that they aren't having employees quarantine even if someone in their house has COVID.  In Ohio, the guidance is always changing.  USA Today did an interesting article recently on how inconsistent policies are.  I can't even imagine how triggering that would be for someone with OCD concerns about getting other people sick.  

I was super fortunate that I could take this week off work unpaid, but not everyone can afford to or has an employer who would even give them the choice.  I guess the point of this lesson is to try to meet people where they are with what they can do and try not to add to the anxiety of a terrible situation by judging people who aren't able to follow current COVID guidelines to the letter. 

Lesson #5:  There is always someone more worried than you about COVID and always someone less worried.

I consider myself to be pretty considerate when it comes to COVID etiquette.  I got the PCR test when I learned of my exposure... I am staying home from work... I considered who I had seen the 48 hours before my test results came back and let them know so they could take care of themselves.  With my fears of getting other people sick, I even contacted someone I had seen in the past 72 hours prior to the test, just to be safe.  What I've learned is that there will still be people who feel that I am not doing everything I can and would do more.  

For example, I tested positive on a Sunday after learning of a potential exposure at an event the previous Wednesday.  Everyone at that event was notified via email of this potential exposure.  Relaying my story to a friend, she was shocked I didn't email everyone again to let them know that I later tested positive too. I explained to her that the event may have been where I got it and was over 72 hours prior to my positive test.  Emailing those already notified people again just didn't make sense to me by any of the guidelines.  For her comfort level, she still would have emailed.  

On the other end of the spectrum, some people I know are completely unvaccinated and don't really care about masking either or are outright against it.  Still others somewhere in the middle.  All of this uncertainty is extremely triggering if you have anxiety because sometimes it is often hard to know the "right" thing to do right now with changing guidelines as this evolves. In some ways, you just have to accept that your best is not going to be enough for some people and would be way overkill for others.  

What a wild time to be alive, yeah?  As my sister says, people have to do what gives them peace of mind.  I have heard other people say to give everyone a little extra grace right now, and that's something we can all work on.  But don't forget to include yourself in that group too!  

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. 

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. 💗

Practicing Gratitude

My heroes.

One of the best exercises my therapist recommended to me was a fairly simple one:  Take time every day to think about what you're thankful for.

It's a nice way to get out of your negative headspace.  Sometimes it's so easy to focus on the negative: on the mean things people have said, on the work that isn't done, on the goals that aren't being met.  Whether it's anxiety or depression (or both) getting you down, when you're in a negative tailspin, it's hard to remember how much is actually going right.  

Some days are easier than others.  Any day you see a puppy in a costume is an easy day to think of joy.  Holidays and special events are easy too.  But even on a bad day, there are still small silver linings if you look for them.  On the days that are the hardest and saddest, it still helps to try and pull a few tiny pieces of positive out of the muck.

Some people write a gratitude journal, but I hate seeing my own handwriting.  I knew if I tried a journal I would just avoid the exercise rather than look at my chicken scratch.  Instead, I pulled my husband in for accountability and we do the exercise verbally, each taking turns saying three things we are grateful for each day before we go to bed.

The exercise has shown me how small changes can make a difference.  At first, it seemed like a silly, throw away exercise, but actively taking the time to concretely verbalize the positive really does help lift my mood.  Bedtime is a particularly anxious time, and it's nice to end the day on a good note.

I also think sharing the exercise has made it even better.  Sometimes my husband and I share the same highs, and sometimes they're different.  It's fun to see day to day what stands out to each of us.

Whether you suffer from anxiety or not, I recommend throwing this into your routine.  If you like to write, write them out.  If you prefer to type, type them.  Share the exercise with your spouse or your child.  If you live alone,  I still think it might be a fun exercise to share with a friend - promise to text each other each night with your top three moments.

With exercises like this, I think the most important thing to keep in mind is not to get down on yourself if you fall off the wagon.  Forgetting for a night, a week, or even a month doesn't mean you have to abandon the process.  Every attempt is a triumph - an active step away from toxic negativity.  If you slip up, you can always try again tomorrow.  This is one assignment that won't be graded, and that's just one more thing to be grateful for.

Inaccurate Perceptions

My vision is bad, but my perception is worse.

Early last week I left my tutoring job feeling like a failure.

There was a student who I was struggling to communicate with.  She at one point even directly asked, "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I didn't really.  I tried to help the best I could, and by the end I thought we were on better footing, but I still left feeling very inadequate and like this woman thought I was a moron.

I told both my husband and mom about how I was feeling.  On Monday, I decided to tell my supervisor about the interaction.  She knew exactly the person I was talking about and told me she had showed up later that week: "She said you were wonderful."

Wonderful?  What?

I was worried she might lodge a complaint.  How had my anxiety caused me to read the situation so inaccurately?

When I messaged my husband about it, he sarcastically feigned shock, replying, "What!?!?! You inaccurately assigned negative aspects to an interaction?!?!?!"

Seriously, though. I've always struggled with this negative voice in my head tearing me down and it has gotten worse lately. Worse enough that my therapist brought it up as a point of concern.

But like... where did this bitch inside my head come from?

I hear her multiple times a day...

You're worthless. You're dumb. You're ugly.
You're old. You're annoying. You're a hypocrite.
You're lazy. You're incompetent. You can't do this.

As I've mentioned before, I had a very blessed childhood. My parents were very supportive and positive. They always told me that I was pretty and smart and funny and good. It's not like my inner voice is replaying ridicule I experienced as a child... so why is my inner voice such a Negative Nancy?

Unfortunately, I'm not sure I'll ever know the answer. From a pragmatic standpoint, it is probably better to focus instead on how to shut her up.

Challenging that voice sometimes feels like trying to see without glasses: Even though from a logical standpoint I know that I'm not seeing clearly, it's hard to ignore the distorted visions in front of me.

But what do you do when you can't see? You use tools to help you.

For actual vision, you get glasses or contact, but for correcting overly negative perceptions, you go to therapy for tools in your mind. The tools may not be as concrete, but learning new ways of thinking can help clear things up.

One of the tools I still need to practice is actually just questioning and considering alternative readings of different situations. Rather than go down the rabbit hole of negativity, I have to question the legitimacy of my negative thoughts, consider different interpretations, and acknowledge the unlikelihood that everything will default to a worst case scenario.

I can't just accept my initial assumptions, because I know my tendency is to go off the deep end into the pool of negativity. But like any change, reprogramming isn't easy.

As usual, it looks like this will be a one-step-at-a-time, definitely-not-overnight path to healing. So, time to put one foot in front of the other and get moving - especially as the voice says I can't.

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.  

The Never Ending To Do List

Puppy Photos & Waffle Magnets > To Do Lists

I know that everyone has to go through the same realization, but it still shocks me at almost 30 years old how obnoxiously hard it is to be an adult.

As a married woman with a house and two puppies, it seems like as soon as I fix one problem another starts... that is if I can even fix the first problem at all.  

Example:  Today, I tried to submit a receipt to insurance, but I couldn't because I changed my last name when I got married and they have my old last name.  When I asked the health insurance company originally about this, they said I had to go through my husband's employer to change it with them.  Except I did weeks ago... My husband wrote to HR and received a response that it was handled.  Regardless, nothing has changed and I can't turn in over $1,000 in receipts for therapy.  

After another frustrating phone call on that topic, I discovered my oven was broken and that's the second major appliance in just as many weeks (we just got a new fridge installed Thursday).  

Meanwhile, as I'm trying to juggle these things the dogs are fighting each other.  They are almost nine months old and have reached a stage where they want to eat and destroy everything they love: their reign of terror knows no limits, and they fluctuate between snuggle buggle and demon sometimes minute to minute.  I love them so much and I feel guilt and self-loathing every time I get angry and yell at them for misbehaving, but I also get frustrated as they continue not to listen and inevitably wind up yelling again, and so the cycle goes on and on until I can get a trainer's help.

The challenges feel constant and overwhelming, and with anxiety they can be especially hard to process.  The way my mind is set up, I always want to have the tasks that are weighing on me checked off.  I want what is worrying me to be accomplished and handled.  

High school and college were in many ways set up beautifully for this mindset.  Assignments were clearly defined and spelled out.  A class had due dates and a set time period.  When the class was over, it was over.  I could work hard and succeed... and I was even given a letter grade at the end to clearly indicate that I had in fact succeeded! Even if a class had a lot of work to do, there was always a light at the end of the tunnel.  

With adult professional work and house work, it is completely different.  There is no end.  At work, when one project is over... there is another one in the wings. Then another.  There won't be a final anytime soon.

Sometimes the assignments don't even have clear instructions.  And there are roadblocks at every turn... a contractor who won't return a call, unexpected electrical issues that stall a project, a company's buggy website.   

The small tasks pile up and sometimes it seems like everything is designed to keep you from being efficient. Seriously, if I have to talk on the phone with one more customer service robot, I'm worried I'm going to snap.

I guess I'm still struggling to find balance.  I used to relax when the work was done, but now I need to find a way to relax even when the work is still there.

I'm still learning and I know I need to stay hopeful.  I have a lot of great support from the people that love me, and I know plenty of people successfully navigate adulthood every day and enjoy the ride.  Still, if anyone has tips for balancing sanity with the never ending to do list, I'm very open to suggestions.

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.

The Waiting Game

Is it February yet?

Most people don't like to wait.  In our instant-almost-everything society, we want answers, results, and gratification, and we want them yesterday.

That said, those of us with anxiety disorders are notoriously bad waiters.  We were bad even before the internet had immediate answers.  We go negative naturally.  If you give me a situation with multiple outcomes, I am assuming the worst one until I have heard otherwise.  I may even invent a new possibility for failure or disaster that hasn't even been considered before.  Watch me.

None of this works in my favor as Nate and I are having some pre-pregnancy tests done.  My mom's side is of Ashkenazi Jewish heritage, so doctors recommend checking for certain genetic diseases, and my husband also has a serious genetic disorder in his family.

So we made an appointment with a genetic counselor.  I felt sick leading up to it, terrified of what we might discover.  Unfortunately, the initial appointment was basically a nonevent with no answers.  Instead, we each had a blood test to screen for a number of possible genetic problems that could be passed on to future offspring. 

The blood was sent to a lab and the real waiting started: two to three weeks for a call from the doctor to see if we hit an unlucky combo.  Knowing my anxiety levels, we considered not even doing the general screening because I can read a 2% chance as almost a certainty. However, we wanted to make sure we knew the risks we would be taking.  A few weeks of worrying would hopefully assuage some of the worst fears.  

A few weeks seemed bad enough, but the counselor also told us that the test could not screen for the issue in Nate's family.  For that, we would need to wait until March to get an appointment with a geneticist.  I have been concerned about this issue for years and thought we were finally going to get a real sense of what we were facing.  Now they wanted us to wait months longer? 

By some miracle there was a cancellation and we were able to see the geneticist last week instead.  Of course there were no answers there either; instead, we needed another blood test and the results of that test could take 6 weeks.  Those results could give us a definitive answer, but they could also be inconclusive, in which case we would need to get a family member of Nate's blood tested and wait even more.  

To top it off, the geneticist told us that they would only call if it was positive.  I explained that I have anxiety and would be waiting for a call and assuming I missed it.  He said to make an appointment in 4 months and we could go over the results... What kind of cruel joke is this?  Wait four months for the results of a test you are getting in six weeks?  

This was a test that could have ramifications for my husband's health and for our future family.  I want to know what we're facing so we can make a plan for how to move forward.  

Positive results won't change my love for him.  If I had known his results were positive before, I still would have married him.  That said, I want to know so we can take care of his health.  I want to know so we can have a sense of potential future issues.  Limbo - waiting and not knowing - is the worst because you have all the dread and no ability to control or plan.  God can only grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change if I learn what I cannot change.

I asked for alternative ways to get the test results.  The doctor suggested that he would memorize our name and make sure to call us either way.  I asked if I could call to check the results after 6 weeks.  I don't think he understood how upset I was until I started crying.

I know that I am basically a professional worrier, but I couldn't help but wonder: Are average people really just that chill?  Are most people willing to sit around not knowing if they or their loved ones have major disorders for months longer than they have to?

The days since the test have been interesting.  I am mostly impressed by how often I am not thinking about it.  The human brain (even the anxious one) is amazing in its ability to distract itself.  With my OCD, I can ruminate and worry and be hyper-focused on the negative and on fear.  However, even at my worst, my brain was still always moving.  Even my worries move around.  This week they have jumped from the test to groceries to taxes.

The truth is that this experience will be a great test of how I can handle parenting.  There are no assurances when you decide to have a baby.  There is no way to avoid all risk and ensure that your baby will be healthy.  You have to learn to be patient and to wait with some sense of grace and optimism.  If I can learn to handle these next few weeks, maybe I'll be okay handling 9 months, and then 18 years, and then a lifetime.  

For now, all I can do is take it one day at a time.