1,2,3… What The Hell Is Wrong With Me?
Two hours!
Two hours is how long it used to take me to go to bed at night!
That was the beginning of my diagnosis…
In the seventh grade I was at the peak of my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). I had just been diagnosed and I was truly struggling every minute of every day with the disorder.
I knew something was up, when I started to gather all of my sentimental belongings, each night before bed, and strategically place them on my headboard.I feared that something horrible would happen in the night, and having those items close by calmed my anxious thoughts.
Going to my parents with my suspected OCD was not the easiest thing I would have to do.
Would they understand?
How would I explain what was happening, without them thinking I was completely bat shit?
Would they admit me, lol?
I had no idea, but I knew I needed help, and I knew they were always on my side.
Good news, I wasn’t admitted and they didn’t think I was crazy! In fact, my mom told me she had OCD tendencies too, but had just learned to work through them over the years.
In the heaviest of my anxiety, I would spend a majority of my day counting and doing repetitive routines. All this, in the hopes nothing bad would happen to myself, my family or friends.
One evening, I stood at my bedroom door holding the door knob in a certain way over and over again, counting, “1,2,3,4”, until I felt that it was safe to open the door. The whole time, thinking in my mind, “This is wrong! Walk away Ashley!”.
Zoloft was the only antidepressant that seemed to ease my anxiety and tame my obsessions and compulsions. Finding the right medication was a long journey. I was watched closely by a psychiatrist who monitored my symptoms and guided me to manageability.
With the right medication and a wonderful psychologist who challenged me to be stronger than my thoughts and fears, I was ready to go away to college and feel comfortable living on my own. There was a time before this point, that I didn’t think I would be able to experience college, like my friends.
Turns out, going to college really helped me kick OCD in the ass. I was living with other people and I was literally forced to forego my “routines”. I mean what was I going to do, stand at a door and count while people waited in line behind me to get out of the room? Uh,no!
Learning that bad things wouldn’t happen if I skipped a routine, helped me realize OCD was in my head and I was in the driver's seat. That brushing my teeth a certain way or landing on an odd number when taking steps was never the cause of bad things happening.
Today, I live with OCD as a mother, a wife, a daughter and a friend. I have proved that having Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is not a burden. In the right hands it’s a superpower!
Some of my superpowers include:
Excelling in any position I have held at a job
Being a mother who is prepared and ready for anything a toddler throws my way
Unmatched organizational & problem solving skills
A sparkling clean house at all times
The queen of decluttering
Embracing OCD has taken a looooong time. It has taken a supportive family, friends that can laugh with me through my dark times, and most of all, knowing when to ask for help from others.
**If you are struggling from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, know you are not alone. Your thoughts are not bat shit. Help is out there, you just need to make the first move.**