Moments of Sanity

God I’ve been a terrible procrastinator lately. My only excuse is that being a nanny wears me the hell out, but that’s still not a good excuse because I have plenty of time to write at work. I don’t know why I have been so reluctant. I have so many exciting things to share.

I know Prozac isn’t for everyone, but it has allowed me to reach a place which I thought I wouldn’t see for years. I’m sure I’ll backslide before I get steady footing here, but I’m so thankful to be here, even if it’s only for a little while.

I am beginning to experience moments, very short moments, of real relief from OCD. I am actually beginning to experience moments without OCD. I haven’t had a moment without OCD in as long as I can remember. Most of my childhood memories, all the way back to when I was a very small child, include OCD in some way or another. I don’t remember what non-OCD thinking feels like. I don’t remember what it feels like not to have anxiety constantly smothering me.

But now I have moments of that kind of sanity. For instance, I frequently take the kids I babysit to McDonald’s for lunch so they can burn off some energy in the playplace while I enjoy air-conditioning. The only thing I will eat at McDonald’s is fries, so I’m usually still very hungry when the kids finish eating and go off to play. The three year old never finishes his fries. I used to throw them away and was unable to finish them for him before. His dirty little hands were all over them, after all. But twice now, I have eaten his left-over fries once he ran off to play. Disgusting, right? But I didn’t feel any anxiety while eating them. It was exhilarating not to be afraid of the contamination I was most definitely ingesting.

Now I’ve done lots of things that OCD doesn’t want me to do through exposure therapy. The difference between all of those things and this is the anxiety. When I do an exposure, I experience a lot of anxiety and have to wait for it to come down. With the fries, I had zero anxiety to begin with.

I can’t really put into words how amazing it feels. Like I said, they’re very short-lived moments of sanity, but they’re there all the same. I still have so far to go, so much work to do, but this taste of what it feels like not to be burdened by constant anxiety is a huge motivator. All these years, I have been working toward a goal that I couldn’t wrap my mind around, a state of mind I couldn’t remember ever experiencing. Now I have a couple of moments to remember as I continue, and those moments give me so much strength.

Barefoot

I’m excited to actually have something upbeat to blog about this time. I hate writing dark posts because I don’t want pity. I write them because I want to be honest and give a full account of what it is to fight OCD. It’s not pretty. But I also want to give people hope. Every time I beat a compulsion, my first thought is sharing it with all of you to show you that it’s possible. Unfortunately, I usually fail at actually posting because of OCD, but I’m working on it.

So much has happened since I last updated. I’m still struggling with the dark cloud, but I’m not depressed; it’s not constant.

In May, I increased my dosage of Prozac to 60 mg/day. The previous dosage, 40 mg/day, had begun to take the edge off general anxiety but had not yet helped with OCD. This current dosage, though, has been amazing. I’m doing so many things that I never thought I’d do. It’s too much to cover in one post, so this will be the first of a series of updates on how Prozac, OCD, and I are getting along

First up: my fear of being barefoot

I have been unable to be barefoot for years. Yes, this includes at home and in bed. I have been terrified of leaving my feet unprotected from contamination. I have been for years, but this particular fear got a lot worse a couple of years ago when I got a fungal infection in my toenails that took forever to fight off. I didn’t understand it at the time. I am SO careful about my feet. I regularly took the girl I babysat to the pool. I didn’t swim (that’s a whole other fear), but I walked around the pool area in sandals. As soon as we would get home each day, I’d ditch the sandals for my socks, thinking they would offer more protection.

I was wrong, though. OCD completely misled me. Surprise, surprise, right? Wearing socks 24/7 actually helped the infection along. If I had just suffered through being barefoot a little, I would not have had to deal with all of that crap.

ANYWAY, the point of all of this is to say that I am getting better about being barefoot. A couple of months ago, I started a barefoot exposure on my own. Instead of putting on socks immediately after showering, I had to walk downstairs into the living room before I could put my socks on. I didn’t always make it all the way down before caving. However, the past couple of weeks, I have been sleeping without socks EVERY night. I don’t remember exactly when I started going without, but I have not worn socks one night since. It’s amazing.

It was really hard the first few nights. I kept a clean pair of socks in my pillow case just in case I couldn’t make it through the night, just in case I panicked. But I never used them. I don’t even get nervous about getting in bed now. I habituated SO quickly.

I was really skeptical about trying Prozac, as I’m sure many of you remember. I almost quit so many times during the process of building up to this dosage. I’m so glad I didn’t, though. It has made ERP therapy so much easier. Doing my homework doesn’t seem like such a tremendously impossible chore anymore. This sock thing wasn’t even homework; it was just something I decided to try on my own.

On the other side, I’m still majorly struggling with stupid little things like TV remotes and steering wheels and kitchen counters. I’m still paralyzed when it comes to cleaning my house, which is infuriating, but I’m hoping that will loosen up soon.

The Dark Cloud

When dealing with chronic illness (mental and physical) it’s so easy to feel self-pity and anger. These can be consuming emotions, and it’s the easiest thing to get lost in them. The question is how to get out of that and feel something else. Unfortunately, I haven’t figure that out yet.

I get so mad when I think about my health. I have both mental and physical chronic illnesses. I have major chronic pain. I’m too young to need all the medication I’m on (in addition to psych and phys therapies). It’s embarrassing! What the hell did I do to deserve all this? Every moment of every day is a struggle against all of it.

And I hate complaining so much because I have a great life. I have so much to be happy about, but the constant pain and anxiety and helplessness doesn’t allow me to fully enjoy the great parts of my life. If OCD doesn’t scream at me not to do something, then my back or neck will make it difficult and painful to move. If not that, then I’ll have trouble breathing. Recently, my body decided that crap wasn’t enough, so it decided to change how it digests some foods. So much fun!!

And after getting worked up in a fury, all I can think about is how this is probably as good as it gets. I’m in my twenties, the supposed peak of my health and ability. I’m barely an adult. Both the physical and mental struggles will only get worse and more difficult to deal with as I get older. That’s not a very bright future. Hard to get excited about. I have so many other wonderful things to look forward to, but they’re all under a really dark cloud that seems inescapable.

I don’t want a pity party. I’m not asking for that. I just need to express these feelings sometimes. I hate feeling sorry for myself, but sometimes it seems impossible to escape despair.

How do you deal with these feelings? How do you get past them?