Blog 2 (you'd have thought a stand up comedian would think up a catchier blog title)

Seven years ago when I was suffering heavily from OCD even a short trip away would be fraught with trauma for me, here’s is a short list of some events which made holidays stressful during my life as an OCD sufferer;

1) A big argument with my parents who tried to take a straw off of me which I needed to tap as part of an OCD ritual.

2) Spending an eternity tapping objects in hotel rooms on the last day which I knew I could not return to in order to complete my rituals.

3) Having to return to the top of water slides in order to tap a certain segment of the slide correctly

4) Obsessive thoughts all my waking day and in my dreams, ten times stronger than when I was at home

Seven days ago I went on a trip to the Edinburgh fringe festival for 3 nights to do some stand up and to take in the shows with two friends, Pete (also a comic) and Chris (a blues musician). Here is a short list of the things which made this trip stressful;

1) We couldn’t find the campsite

2) The clutch in the car we drove up in made a screeching noise every time it was in use, (two days after we made it back home the clutch gave up the ghost)

3) Pete went missing for over an hour at one point and he still won’t tell us where he was.

4) Freezing cold nights

5) Getting lost, all day, every day.

On top of this I had to stand up and amuse six different audiences over 3 days having had little to no sleep.

But despite all the apparent stresses of the trip I had more fun than I‘ve ever had, if you don’t believe me just ask any of my friends who I’ve been boring with Edinburgh anecdotes since. A big part of the reason I’m still involved with OCD awareness is that I want to show people how much I enjoy my life having overcome OCD and that all the fighting and all the struggle to do this was worth it.

I appreciate evenings now. Evenings were stressful when I had OCD. That was when my OCD was at its worse, if I was the slightest bit tired it was harder to keep the obsessive thoughts out. But now I love evenings, at the Edinburgh fringe they have a midnight show at the caves. It’s literally in a cave and starts at midnight, running on till about 3am. We went to this event two nights running. Comedy is a lot better when you know that everyone sensible is in bed. Reginald D. Hunter headlined the second night and I laughed uncontrollably. And it felt like I’d earned it. In beating OCD I had reclaimed the evening in my life. When my OCD was at its worse I would never have been able to relax at that show.

This year’s Edinburgh award went to the comic poet Tim Key, but my award goes to ‘The Evening’, my new, favourite part of the day.

Joe Wells

About me

In 2005 I wrote my first and so far only book, Touch and Go Joe about my own experiences of suffering from OCD as a teenager. Since then I have travelled about giving talks about OCD (you might have seen me at the OCD action conference last year) and done lots of different media things. The point of the book, or at least one of many points the book had set out to make was that there was a human face to OCD. In telling my own story of my life with OCD I intended to write a book which was different to other books about OCD, which did not talk about OCD in general terms but showed it as an illness which people suffered from.

I felt like I achieved that to some degree, but I only showed the OCD which effected one person, myself. This is the reasoning behind my next project, a film entitled One Point Eight. One Point Eight is a documentary project which I am Co-Directing with film maker Matthew Harrison. We are currently looking for as many OCD sufferers as possible to let us interview them, but there is a twist. We don’t want these interviews to focus on OCD, we want the main focus of these interviews to be about ‘what makes us us’. maybe it’s a passion for music, The interviewee’s relationships with their friends and family? or their career? OCD will be a footnote to contextualise the interviews next to footage of my lecturing. But the purpose of the interviews will to put that human face to the 1.8% of people who suffer from OCD.

If anyone is interested in this project, drop me an email on touchandgojoewells@msn.com

Joe

New Blogger

We would like to welcome our new guest blogger - Joe Wells .....

To eat or not to eat ... babies

I used to subscribe to Jonathan Swift’s satirical essay on the merits of eating babies, whilst simultaneously waxing indignant on human over-population of the world with a rallying cry of ‘Birth Control not War!’

However, this slogan if instigated would promptly cut 80% of news, violence, current affairs and 100% of arms-trading, paradoxical statues of war heroes, Peace Prizes - not to mention putting the mockers on a glut of glory. A large percentage of the populace would promptly kick the bucket - often metaphorically in the new non-violent civilisation - with boredom. So humans would be off doing all that foolish procreating all over again and Getting Carried Away.

This is bad news for anyone with OCD who is terrified of babies and children, if not yet of adults. This appears to be in reverse order to most British adults who seem frightened of each other, but fairly relaxed around offspring. Personally, there was a period where I couldn’t stay in the same room as a pregnant woman, without becoming convinced that I was causing damage to her unborn child - or if I wasn’t, would be, by something I said or did very shortly. People would wonder why I was being stand-offish, or appeared to have a form of Lockjaw.

Fortunately then in the circumstances, my own maternal instincts emerged belatedly and wilted from lack of nurture. Otherwise there could have been an unfortunate infant in a similar position, because I as their mother was unable to touch them.

Parents unaware of the paralysing spell of OCD might exclaim: ‘Pah, Nature would overcome it - of course you’d cuddle your little baby!’

No, I might very well not. Not if I was having one of those deadly moments, when a horrifically graphic film sequence kicks off in a heart-beat, featuring me centre-brain harming my infant.

Some time ago I saw a very sad woman in her late 30s, who had unexpectedly become affected by OCD, being interviewed on a TV show. She said quietly that she was suddenly unable to touch her children. The camera soon swung away from her - it must be quite dispiriting for TV producers if they hope that an OCD-sufferer will give them a dramatic interview and raise viewing figures – but, as is often the case with OCD, the poor woman’s inner turmoil scarcely showed on the outside.

Helen Poskitt

Computer Virus

Having received innumerable tempting leaflets from supermarkets, listing the joys of shopping on-line, I thought I’d avoid the hell of a clinically-lit store and the civil war triggered by loading 16 bags, the ecological string one leaking yoghurt, on to a London bus in the rush-hour. I'd make a huge effort and lift a finger to tap a few computer keys instead.

Then, magically, through the ether will appear an electric vehicle bearing the desired lavatory paper, plus innumerable tins of cat-food, gallons of beer, a tower-block of detergent, pounds of chocolate biscuits, litres of wine and a couple of bananas. As the market research people know, now on a par with God in their ability to divine people's true desires, all of human life lies within the contents of a supermarket trolley.

I log on with a spring in my finger. Suppose I'd better get something nutritious to add to the proposed delicious comestibles: 'Dairy and Eggs' that'll do to start with. My goodness, there are umpteen types of egg available ...

It's fine, I think initially, clicking recklessly on boxes to add groceries painlessly to my shopping trolley. But maybe because of the amount of choice in each category, the process becomes akin to completing quite a demanding puzzle. Despite being a decisive sort, I eventually concede defeat from the sugary depths of the doughnut section and press 'Checkout'. I'm feeling almost as drained as if I'd slogged my customary way round the supermarket, terrified of committing GBH with a trolley.

Now things get a bit tricky, they want me to register as an on-line customer. I can do this, despite being form-phobic in Real Life. I notice with a sinking feeling that there are several sections. I type the relevant information requested under 'Personal Details' fairly speedily and without neurosis.

'Log In Details' causes me to pause and take deep breaths against incipient panic, but I only re-read my answers once. 'Store Card Details' is the signal to re-read and neurotically check boxes three times. By 'Delivery Address' I'm perspiring lightly, my shoulders are rigid and I'm sure I'm starting RSI. I enter the correct information with shaking fingers, but spend several minutes erasing it forensically, before entering it again, then reading it aloud for good measure. The cats have trooped in to watch. 'Telephone Number '…

Eleven minutes later, my bloodshot eyes skid down to 'Your personal information is safe with us at all times' at the bottom of the page. While the sensible majority probably wakes with a start at 4am wondering who is poring over their Personal Info. - I couldn't care less. My brain is fizzing with anxiety as to whether I wrote Something Dreadful which will get me or someone else Put Away, in one of the boxes. To this end, I stare obsessively at the screen, then erase it all again …

After the site has crashed twice because I'm taking so long to pay, I concede defeat. Grabbing the string bag and my Oystercard, I head for the Real Supermarket - it has to be easier.

It's shut.

Helen Poskitt

Coming Out

Bet you thought this is the beginning of a moving article about the trauma of Coming Out as an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder Sufferer - try saying it fast after a double Pimms.

And you’re wrong.

Here I am, doing Dawn Press-Ups for the eyes: holding the door of the airing-cupboard open, staring at the door jamb with forensic attention, peering left at the metal water pipes which run down the wall, then flicking my gaze up to the ceiling light which, incidentally, is off.

As I hurriedly close the closet door and begin breathing again in the hall, a separate door – this time of a sordid cerebral lock-up – rattles open.

Technicoloured visions swirl out - of a cat caught in the cupboard door, the light clicking on and igniting bed-linen on the top shelf, while the water pipes spring a leak which would alert Noah. H20 might help to extinguish the blaze – but what about the poor cat?

I whip open the cupboard door for the fourth time.
‘Last time,’ I say firmly aloud. It’s getting chilly, standing around staring at things.
‘What?’ asks my partner absently from the sitting-room.
‘Just talking to myself,’ I manage, outwardly resembling Lot’s wife, After. Inwardly, I’m thrashing around in a Tarantino mind-meld.

This time I do breathe, which improves the quality of life no end - but the OCD sneakily retaliates with the certainty that the vacuum cleaner is planning to topple sideways onto the water pipes under cover of darkness. I look down, to introduce a bit of variety and also to check for water seeping under the closed door. The hall floor is blessedly dry.

Taking a deep breath, I ease open the door to catch the Hoover at it; all is dark and quiet.

Stare, peer, flick – slam door hurriedly. March into sitting-room, perspiring with anxiety, but exhaling noisily with relief.

Partner looks up quizzically from the sofa, where he’s nursing coffee and a hangover:
‘Aren’t you cold?’ Damnit, even my knees are goose-pimpled.

I forgot to unhook my dressing-gown from inside the cupboard door: the whole reason for the past 15-minute farce. The Gremlins, who’d sneaked off for a tea-break, groan as they see me approaching the closet.

I’ve had enough: a girl can only cope with so much at 7am, it’s time to cheat.

‘Honey, would you mind getting ..?’

Helen Poskitt
www.helenposkitt.com

Deep Breathing

Is it at puberty when people – let's face it, girls in particular – begin worrying that they smell bad?

What I'm leading up to is Addictive Sniffing. … Okay, there was a little Snorting during the Experimental Period, but I didn't inhale.

I'm one of those annoying people who hits the ground running at 6.30am, but who
head-buts the keypad just after lunch from sheer fatigue – partly due to an effortful lung-expanding Sniffing Schedule. I could patent it for anyone avoiding the gym, but wishing to develop a big chest and dispense with diving equipment.

Daily schedule goes something like this:

(Sound of duvet cover being thrown briskly back and reaching with feet for slippers.)
Self: Euck! Ouch. Bloody hell!
(Bang of cat-flap as Tomcat speedily exits.)
Self: Entrails, between the toes, aghkk!
(Begins hopping towards bathroom, trying to do up dressing-gown.)
Self: Ow! What was that? Oh, a beak! Gross ...

I gingerly remove the beak, then wipe mess and blood off feet frantically with loo paper, simultaneously adopting a lemon-sucking expression. This strengthens face muscles.
Raise lid of lavatory gingerly, due to fear of faeces and drop in tissue (of both types) from great height. Rinse hands thoroughly under bathroom tap, rinse tap, rinse hands, turn off tap. Sniff fingers three times. Let's not get neurotic about this; they smell fine.

Dressing-gown was on the floor, has cat done something horrible to it during the night ..? As well as slaughtering things nearby, of course. Vivid mental vision of feline spraying his territory, despite not having a hormone to his name since the Trip to the Vet. He's never forgiven us – hence the head under the bed payback.

Remove dressing-gown and inspect it minutely, in chilly dawn light of bedroom window. I gradually become aware that our Paramedic neighbour, returning from his night shift, is staring across. Drop to floor below window level clad in annoyed frown and ancient sleeping vest. Can't see any blood on dressing-gown. Sniff at fingers three times each hand, front and back.They smell fine.

I neurotically sniff the whole of dressing-gown – 19 sniffs in all – it doesn't seem to smell horrible. Perhaps my olfactory nerve isn't working. Yes it is: I can smell the compost bin in the kitchen from here. Crawl on hands and knees past bedroom window to bathroom. Cat's passed along this hall and he probably cussedly slept in the cat litter tray again, despite having a sumptuous cat sofa. Sniff hands, three times front and back and also my wrists for good measure. All seems fine, if a bit dusty.

Exhale hard and feel dizzy. Have shower, paying neurotic attention to washing.
Emerge, reach for towel, then remember that towel was seen left on lid of lavatory yesterday afternoon by partner.

I try and sniff at towel with the breath control of an opera singer, but begin hyper-ventilating and my vision shimmers interestingly. Towel seems fine, but by this time most of the water previously on me is in a puddle round my feet on the floor. Drop towel on it, gingerly mopping with my feet. Get dressed as fast as possible trying to avoid sniffing anything at all, even when nose runs.

Return for towel. I pick it up between finger and thumb and feed it into washing-machine with my foot. Fall over. Hobble to kitchen tap and rinse finger and thumb. Rinse tap. Rinse fingers. Sniff hands 6 times, seems fine- See neighbour staring at me out of his window.

Perspiring with embarassment, I smile unwillingly at him and feel my face creak as the frown furrows smooth out. He gestures wildly; I open the sash window.
He says: 'Sorry to bother you - your cat's just killed something big on our patio. Wouldn't matter, but I need a kip and the wife faints at the sight of blood. Haven't seen such a mess since I had to cover a boxing match. If you wouldn't mind?'

Perhaps the perfect pet would be a nice shiny goldfish ...

- Helen Poskitt

Foot loose and fancy free

Oh Lordy, to try on the beautiful red leather boots with the jaunty bow, I have to remove my old Mock-Ugg boots.

You'd think the fact that I've had my Turd-Detector (that's eyes to you) on Red Alert all the way to the shoe-shop, and that any dog electing to squat amongst the densely-marching ranks of Victoria commuters would have to be built like a Sumo wrestler, would ensure that my boots are immaculately clean. Having OCD though, I'm personally convinced that at some point my concentration has waned on my journey and I've trodden in a Something.

So what? you ask reasonably - not the end of the world. Oh yes it is. The excrement of Dog has taken on mythic proportions in my mind and now has the stature of a nuclear holocaust combined with total social exclusion. Not that there'd be much society left if …

Anyway. Having inspected each foot in a position which would impress Yoga-goers, with pedestrians veering round me on the pavement, I'm still not convinced the soles are completely clean. But, jostled crossly by a unnecessarily abrupt man who also wants to buy shoes in his lunch-hour, I find myself cannoning across the busy shop floor on tiptoe, like a hippo from Fantasia. After bouncing off an assistant, I sit gingerly on to a padded stool – briefly inspecting it for dirt - then discreetly shove my head between my knees to look at my boots again.

Seeing another pair of shoes out of the corner of my eye, I become aware that a dead ringer for George Clooney is standing patiently in front of me, holding out a red shoe.
'Oh, thank you, thanks, I felt faint,' I gabble, hurriedly returning to the vertical and purple from sniffing surreptitiously down at ankle level. Dead Ringer looks handsomely apprehensive and holds the shoe box out towards me, as you might when feeding a Hyena.

'I'm fine now,' I say, convinced everyone in the busy shop is staring at me. Keeping my hands well clear, I yank away at my boots with my toes. Thank heaven they don't have zips: if I had to actually touch the damned things, I'd really faint. Either that or I'd have to find a way of discreetly sniffing my fingers ...

'Shit!' A searing pain tears at my calf and sweat jumps out on my face.
'Are you sure you're OK?'
'Yessss. Fine. Sorry, think I've pulled a calf muscle.'
To his puzzlement, I buy the boots without trying them on, trying to remember not to sniff at my long hair, which I'm sure swung forward and touched my Ugh-Ugg when I was bending down ...
I limp out of the shop and back to work.

Diana at the office says enviously: 'Ooh, let's have a look ... Wow! Someone's been having a self-indulgent lunch-hour - nothing like a spot of retail therapy for making you feel better, is there though? … I didn't realise you had such small feet – did you try them on?'

- Helen Poskitt -

New Blogger

We would like to introduce our next guest blogger, Helen Poskitt. Helen's new book "Rising to the Surface" is available via Amazon and Waterstones and she is currently working on her stage play "Check!" losely based on the book.

- The OCD Action team -

Comming Soon

Thank you to our second blogger - I hope that you have all enjoyed reading their posts.
We have a new blogger lined up and they will be posting from the end of April.

- The OCD Action team -

No cure but not concerned

So this is my final blog and I thought it might be helpful to reflect and what I wanted to achieve by doing them.

I guess the thing that I was concerned about is being negative. I often think that when you read the case studies in books on OCD (as excellent as some of these books are) they can be frightening because some people seem to be so consumed by their OCD. However, that too was me, when I was at my worst. I think the thing I feel they miss, and I wanted to add, is that you can recover from OCD to the point that you don’t even notice you have it! This is where I am now. Sure I still get intrusive thoughts, but so does everyone!!! I react to them differently now.

And if you are doubting how bad my OCD has been, I’ve made two suicide attempts and been in hospital for three months when I was at my worst. If you too find yourself in the depths of despair please just know that each day brings new hope and with the right treatment, you can get better.

In addition, I wanted to encourage those of you whose lives have been affected by OCD and related disorders (and hopefully also those of you who haven’t been) to get involved in making things better in future for all people suffering from mental health conditions. I know we all tut when our colleagues come around with sponsor forms for runs etc. but this is the only way that charities can work to make change. And you don’t even have to give money if you can’t afford to – do a sponsored event yourself, write to your MP, volunteer or donate your unwanted goods to the local mental health charity shop.

As a final note, I know some of you find it disconcerting that there’s no cure for OCD but you don’t need one – we’re meant to have frightening thoughts as part of an evolutionary warning system and with the help of medication or CBT you can see that they are only thoughts!

- OCD Guest Blogger 2 -

Now I Understand

Since writing the first entry to my blog, I have been thinking about the finishing statement of it. This is mainly because several sad things have happened and I also felt some people may feel it over-optimistic or a little insensitive.

The finishing statement was the adage that ‘it’s not the circumstances that determine the quality of your life, but how you deal with them.’ I realise that this seems a little silly as try telling this to people dealing with terminal illness, have lost someone they love or don’t have enough food. A personal example is a friend who died of cancer last month after having suffered from depression all her life. And what about the people who lost loved ones in the earthquake in Italy last week?

However, I guess it comes down to a choice we have to make. Like my mum was told in her positive thinking class, there’s no point in ruminating about the past – take action in the present moment to move towards where you want to be. I have spent a lot of time thinking about why me, why OCD, why did I get it (genes, childhood experiences, etc.)? But, to use another adage, ‘finding out how you fell into a hole isn’t going to get you out of it!’ It may not seem fair or reasonable that you have OCD or are suffering so, but you have to make a choice to deal with it and not look at the past.

I also wanted to add (and you’re going to hate me for this!), ‘every cloud has a silver lining.’ Well, at least I believe the OCD one does. Before OCD, I had little sympathy for people’s frailties. I had no experience of disability and wasn’t that interested in helping any but the most extreme cases of suffering. But now, I understand more about what it is like to have a disability. I feel I can relate to most people more as you realise we’re all a bit mad and most of us need help at some point in life for something. Most importantly, I’m engaged in society and try to do my bit to make things better – I write to my MP about mental health provision, volunteer and donate what I can to charity campaigns. I feel so alive. Life just seems great now because I know what it’s like to have been at the bottom of the valley and – so OCD has given me something positive too!

- OCD Guest Blogger 2 -

Kicking OCD's Arse

So I’ve been asked to do a blog about my journey with OCD but with the long and winding journey it has been, where should I start? Well, I think the most important thing to remember that to beat OCD you have to live your life as if you didn’t have it. Easier said than done, I hear you cry! But each step you take towards doing this takes the power back from OCD and makes the pain worth bearing.

I first realised I had OCD when I was 18. Like a lot of people, it was the stress of A levels that brought it on. At first I just didn’t understand what it was – was a schizophrenic, manic depressive or what? Intrusive thoughts just kept bombarding me about a range of issues. I guess at first I just got depressed – why me? Not only has I lost my father at a young age, had to deal with being gay and now I had some of disorder coming on just at the end of my A levels!

Thankfully I was studying psychology A level and realised it may be OCD. After much persuasion from my mum I called OCD Action and a wise lady suggested that I tell someone at my Sixth Form College about it. Then, the wonderful deputy head, Ms Carpenter, helped me through the storm of exams and I also got extra time by getting my GP to write a medical note to the exams officer. I would advise any students with OCD to do this – colleges and universities have to include mental health problems under disability provision.
So I got through the exams, but now what? Like many, I had a lovely GP but he couldn’t do anything about the long waiting list for CBT. So, I had to opt out of going to Uni. despite my A grades whilst I waited for treatment. In the meantime I did everything I thought might help – came out to everyone, got a boyfriend, got drunk, tried counselling and even paid £300 for a wacky weekend healing workshop!

Eventually, my OCD just got worse and worse. I just went to work and felt like a walking zombie and then came home and slept to escape it all. My mum was a star at this point, persuading me to go to work and so were friends I made through OCD Action. I suppose feeling sorry for yourself never gets you anywhere and so I decided that if the mountain wasn’t coming to Mohammed, Mohammed would have to go to the mountain:
I wrote to my Community Mental Health team, asked for a community psychiatric nurse, complained to the director and chairperson of the lack of provision and after some battles got referred to see a specialist in OCD. I realise those of you reading this may be disgusted at the extent you have to go to get help, but it often is a case of he who shouts loudest. You also have to keep in mind that people generally do want to help but we all know what it’s like to have financial constraints!

After getting on the right medication at the right dose and having some CBT with an excellent therapist I got on the road to recovery. The medication helped me to see the thought traps I was getting into and allowed me to do the ERP. But like I said, getting back to living was part of the therapy. I had to set things to do each day and make sure I stuck to them. First it was simple things such as taking the dog for a walk, then it was built up to volunteering and eventually back to work (I was signed off for three months at my worst).
Then there was a sort of vacuum, I was kicking OCD’s arse but was not where I wanted to be in life. So then the bigger goals came – helping other people with OCD, moving to London and going to University.

So here I am now, recovered. And whilst I still have the thoughts they just don’t matter anymore – and anyway even if they get worse, I have the techniques to deal with them.! As you may have expected, life is not all roses. The University I wanted to go to insisted on my doing an Access course which meant another year before University but what the hell – another year as a student! I often think back to a saying I read somewhere that ‘it’s not your circumstances that determine the quality of your life, but how you deal with them.’

- OCD Guest Blogger 2 -

Comming Soon

We hope that you have enjoyed reading about our guest blogger's journey back to work and that it has given you some insight into the life of a person affected by OCD.

Our new guest blogger will be posting soon so do keep comming back.

- The OCD Action team -

Back in the swing of things

This is my final blog and I hope you have found it entertaining, insightful and a true reflection of life with OCD. I know I shouldn’t compare myself to the brave soldiers who risk their lives in Iraq and Afghanistan, but fighting and recovering from OCD felt like a war and only now can I look back at my time in OCD Hell and say to myself, “I was there and I survived.”

But once you’ve conquered OCD then you simply return to the other stresses of modern life: find a girlfriend, save up for a flat, maintain a good social life and succeed in your career. I’m very lucky to have found a job as the number of unemployed keeps going up and decent jobs are few and far between. I shall never forget my nine months of unemployment and the tedium of endless job applications, but I got through it and am now in an enjoyable role.

I hope to have my second short film made this year, which is great news and would be a big step forward in my career ambitions. For some reason I can’t stop listening to Tina Turner’s “When the heartache is over”, but it makes me happy rather than sad, even though my previous girlfriends or recent dates all seem to have found someone new while I’m wallowing around like a horny hippopotamus. On the plus side I’m running faster than ever.

But life can only get better and I want to achieve a lot this year and will work hard to stay on the pathway to happiness. If I can manage it then anybody reading this can fight to reclaim their lives from OCD. Best of luck and I now pass on the baton to the next blogger.

- OCD Guest Blogger 1 -

New Start

My new job marks a fresh start in life and time to put my nine months of disappointment behind me. As an OCDer, I tend to dwell on the past and curse myself for not having done things differently. But the past is the past and there’s nothing I can do to change it. This is a damn shame because nothing feels worse than regret.

But I am no longer under the power of OCD so for that I should be thankful. But I think having OCD makes people naturally secretive and, for me, the wall I build around myself often stops me experiencing fulfilling relationships. When I’m in a relationship I turn into a captured prisoner under interrogation who never gives anything away.

But I want to adopt a positive outlook to the rest of 2009 and succeed in my job and let everything else just fall into place. I hope the OCDers reading this blog can learn to forgive themselves for their mistakes and go on to enjoy life

- OCD Guest Blogger 1 -

Valentine’s Day vs OCD

I wonder if those suffering from severe OCD waste a second worrying about being single on Valentine’s Day? The funny thing about having OCD is that because your whole mind is consumed by obsessive thoughts, there is no space for the general stresses of life. But I would be single forever if it meant I could go back in time and delete OCD from my history.

A year ago, I was in a job I hated and the stress I was under had nothing to do with OCD. I was simply following the wrong career path in the wrong environment. Despite feeling incredibly tense and despondent, it still felt a lot better than ‘OCD Hell’. But because I was unhappy at work it made me unhappy with everything else in my life. So I was a useless boyfriend, a depressing friend and lost all enthusiasm for writing.

But your heart and soul always heal eventually and it’s important to keep on fighting for happiness and freedom from OCD. I thought about partying in Amsterdam this weekend but the flights and accommodation are so expensive because of Valentine’s Day. I haven’t been abroad since April 2007 and am desperate to see somewhere new but I don’t want to be conned into spending too much money just because of some naff weekend for lovers.

I don’t have too much to say this week, which I suppose is a good thing. As if I was under the grip of OCD then I would be filling hundreds of pages with cries for help and reassurance that this is OCD and not me.

- OCD Guest Blogger 1 -

Here comes the snow

I did enjoy the festive feeling that came with the heavy snowfall on Monday. It’s not often London feels like a friendly city but there was such a jovial atmosphere in the pub on Monday, with workers feeling happy they had dodged a day off work and young parents taking the rare opportunity to play with their kids in the snow.

It’s these magic days with your friends that give you the power to stop OCD regaining control of your thoughts. I never want to miss out on fun or adventure because of OCD and life is all about the people you spend it with. It shouldn’t be you stuck at home besieged by tormenting thoughts and rituals, fearing life will never be enjoyable again.

Now that ice has begun to replace the fluffy snow, you will have to be careful not to slip up and hurt yourself. Trawling through a snowstorm to then slip on ice could arguably be a metaphor for being in ‘OCD recovery’. As after the battle of defeating, what often seems, an unstoppable enemy, the last thing you want to do is fall on your ass and slide back under its control.

So I guess my message this week is, “You may not be able to control the things that happen around you but you can fight back to make sure your life isn’t sucked into the storm. “ Anyway, keep up on your feet and get ready for more snow.

- OCD Guest Blogger 1 -

Keep on Running

Wow, this is my third blog and talking really does help. I hope that sharing my anxiety and experiences helps portray the life of an OCD sufferer, and gives those who are afflicted by this dreadful disorder hope for the future.

I was listening to the commentary of an episode of The Sopranos called ‘Remember When’ and some of what the respective actor said about the subtext and theme of the gangster drama really struck me.

“You have to love yourself first before you are able to love others.”
“Life is all about discovering who you are and trying to be a more loveable person.”

I am still nervous about returning to work, especially as I do not have a start date yet. And I’m always at my most anxious when I am in limbo and unable to do anything to influence my future. I hope it’s going to be okay, as I cannot wait to get back to the office and have more of a purpose to my life.

I remember when I told two former colleagues that I had OCD. It was an anti-climax to say the least; their eyes just glossed over and after a couple of “oh, rights”, the conversation resumed as if I hadn’t even mentioned my secret disorder. For them the night continued but for me, it was another night of tormenting thoughts and self-reassurance. I never told anybody at work again.

I am looking forward to doing a first aid course this week, which should allow me to learn some essential medical skills and get me used to waking up each morning to go somewhere I have to be. And you never know when you’ll have to save someone’s life.

I love exercise, especially running and swimming. When I run through the park and along the river, I am able to deal with my thoughts and troubles while enjoying life and keeping healthy. I shall never let myself be paralysed by OCD again. And what I like about these two activities is that there is no pressure on me to perform in a team. It’s just me and I’m the only person I have to answer to for my performance.

-OCD Guest Blogger 1 -

Back to Work

This is my second post and I still have OCD, but I shall not let it affect my preparations for my new job. I have been unemployed since July and, like Barack Obama, I cannot wait to get started in my new role. It has been a stressful time with having to apply for hundreds of jobs, unsuccessful interviews and the tedium of having to register with recruitment agencies. However, this stress still comes second to the anxiety that OCD has caused me since 2004.

I remember having to go to rubbish fill-in jobs while I desperately tried to figure out why I couldn’t shake these tormenting thoughts. Every day was sheer torture; my obsessive thoughts dominated my mind and made it impossible to listen to my colleagues and follow instructions. This meant I made mistakes, and I hate making mistakes. My first permanent job as a researcher was also a disaster, as I wasn’t equipped for the role and had to keep darting out to phone OCD helplines.

A BBC Breakfast package on ‘returning to work’ cheered me up this morning, as a magazine editor spoke about being “the worst civil servant ever” until he discovered he wanted to be a journalist. It showed me that a lot of decent, intelligent people have failed in the workplace but still achieved career success once they found a suitable profession.

I think what makes me susceptible to OCD is my tendency to dwell and analyse the past, which when seen through OCD eyes can distort the truth and leave me scared of facing the challenges that lie ahead. I have to put my past failures behind me and go into my new job eager to learn and ready to impress.

I haven’t told my employers I have OCD, but did have a slight panic they would dig up my medical files and learn all about me. By listening to these ‘what if?’ fears I often create my own sense of doom which only adds to my stress levels. That’s the worst thing about OCD – it makes you think the unthinkable and only escalates until you wake up during the night in sweat-drenched sheets.

For all the OCD sufferers out there who have lost their jobs and struggling to find employment, please relax and make sure you are happy in yourself before you start looking for work. After I lost my job last summer, I sent out loads of applications but quite often found mistakes in them so I had to resend them with the lie that “my e-mail server is down, so I’m resending you my application”. I was not surprised when none of these applications led to an interview.

So my New Year’s resolution is to make sure I am ecstatically happy with my work before I hit SEND, so I can avoid the anxiety that has hung over my head for most of my life.

- OCD Guest Blogger 1 -

I want my thoughts back

I’ve been asked to write a blog about OCD but my mind is totally empty. It’s not so long ago that I would have done anything to have a clear mind and a few seconds of peace. I guess you can call me a ‘recovering OCDer’ as I fought through the 24/7 hell to create a good life for myself in London. But I cannot wash away the past or even 100 per cent prove that my obsessive thoughts are not real. I just have to live with it and seek happiness from life.

There was such an annoying woman on my train today. She was determined to be heard and harass other people. “Oh my god,” I thought I have found the personification of OCD. Her victims don’t know how to handle her and wish she would go away, while those out of her firing line laugh and look on in wonder at this bizarre creature. The truth is most people don’t know how to handle conflict and simply want a quiet life. But we have to travel to work, just as we have to be at peace with our mind.

You need to get your dukes up if you’re going to beat this thing. It’s like trying to reel in Jaws but your own mind makes the imaginary beast even stronger and pulls you ever closer to its unforgiving jaws. Even when writing about OCD, I still don’t go into specifics about my battle with the disorder. I would never sell myself to magazines with an ‘I beat OCD’ story, as I never want anyone to know the thoughts that turned my mind into a battlefield. But maybe one day I shall be happy to discuss my life with OCD.

The first rule of OCD Club: you always doubt you have OCD.
The second rule of OCD Club: you always try to solve OCD.
The third rule of OCD Club: you seek reassurance you have OCD.
The fourth rule of …I’m already bored with this club. If only defeating OCD was this easy.

Nothing weighs heavier on your soul than obsessive thoughts. I have Pure-O, which would leave the majority of the public lost, as ask most people about OCD and they will say, “People who wash their hands too much. People who wash their hands too much. Sorry, how many times did I say that?”. If you’re going to make a joke about OCD then at least make it funny.

Work and relationships

I don’t know if it’s a typical OCD trait, but I continually fret over past mistakes, especially those I made at work or in relationships. I was never the top of any class but I know I’m not stupid, which makes it even worse when I do something wrong in the office. “If only I’d checked that one last time”, or, “Why the hell did I do that for?” are thoughts that bombard me on a daily basis. My sole ambition in life is to do one thing perfectly. Just one thing.

If relationships depend on being totally honest, then I’m doomed as I never give anything away. When I’m going out with someone, the last thing I want is to appear to be weak. And having OCD is not something you can happily chat about over dinner. Admittedly OCD is not always to blame and the more girls I meet the more my confidence grows, which can only be a good thing.

Does talking help?

To be honest, I hate talking or hearing about OCD as it brings back too many bad memories. I went to the OCD Conference last November and while I was glad to see so many people seeking help for their obsessive-compulsions, I could not sit and listen to sufferers’ stories.

But while I was under the power of OCD, it was all I talked about to my family, helpline advisers and therapists. I even tried hypnotherapy, which was quiet cool but of no real help in controlling my obsessive thoughts. Beware of therapists who compare OCD with alcoholism or drug addiction. In my opinion people who cannot resist their next drink or fix are different to those who listen to obsessive thoughts or carry out compulsive behaviour to reduce anxiety. Whereas these addicts spend their money feeding their addiction, OCDers spend money on therapy and self-help books to try to annihilate their obsessions.

Even those who love and care for you, will get bored with your constant need for reassurance. Once I knew I had OCD then I had my answer, but that didn’t stop the doubts. I tried therapy but gave it up after a few sessions and did not feel comfortable at support groups, so I followed the advice in books and on websites on how to overcome this disorder. If you expose yourself enough to the thoughts then the dread and anxiety will subside.

Blogging OCD

There always seems to be another celebrity with OCD, which helps normalise the disorder. But knowing that David Beckham suffers from OCD does not make me feel any better and while I empathise with the other 1.8 million or so sufferers in Britain, all I want is to be out of the OCD Club. At least I know that OCD is not psychosis so I shall not lose control or do something that ruins my life.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer and blogs seem to be the way to go. So I hope to entertain some of you during my blog about life with OCD and maybe you can fill my shoes after I depart for a new challenge?

- OCD Guest Blogger 1 -

Welcome

Welcome to OCD Action's Blog "living with OCD". This blog is designed to give people a real insight into the daily life of somebody with the dissorder.

If you want to know more about the reality of OCD then this blog will tell you all you need to know, if you have OCD then you will see from our guest bloggers, you are not alone.

- OCD Action team -