On the Slow Upswing

Wow. Over the past few days I have nearly come full circle, but I'm coming back from a freakout...

The job stress was just part of the issue. The other part is some personal family stuff. The issues were all combined and tangled. Where I found peace with one aspect of the conundrum a month before (prompting me go to off meds), I found conflict with another. It all had to fit together or I would be totally lost.

When this happens, I feel life stop. I slept 40 minutes the other night, and I was spinning out of control. With no meds I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my skin, and then there's the lovely physical symptoms that come with panic attacks. When I wanted to sleep I felt horribly alone and panicked. When I tried to eat, I gagged. It's a vicious cycle. I felt like my mind was on overdrive, I couldn't think objectively, I was totally out of control and I couldn't shut my mind off. I hated today. I hated tomorrow. I imagined that it would be easier if someone would just wreck into me out on the road, put me in the hospital, and everything would come into perspective. I was scared that I had gotten this way so quickly, and I KNOW it's because of the stress at my job and mistakenly thinking I could handle it unmedicated.

I talked to everyone: My pastor, my parents, my husband. I took 3 days off work to get things together--I simply couldn't handle anything, and am still not ready to handle work stuff. I have to take care of me. Fortunately I was able to see my therapist yesterday, AND the medicine doctor, so I am on the right track. My therapist found a way that it all fits together--the family stuff, the meds, the work. Honestly, to God be the glory for that because I was utterly incapable of coming to the conclusion she came up with, and Husband likes it, too. It's a decision that gives me the most peace.

Everyone was telling me I had to go back on meds, but it didn't match up with the other part of the puzzle, the personal stuff. I was afraid it meant that I was simply going back on meds in order to work at a job that I find overwhelming anyway. But my therapist helped me to see the big picture. The important thing I learned is that if I ever plan to be unmedicated, I have to take a less-stressful job, and I am 100% ok with that.

Last night I went to a sporting event after not working all day and not having slept more than 40 minutes in 38 hours. It was a good distraction, but work stuff was still on my mind. I had hope in knowing that in a few days I'll have more meds in my system. (I actually am trying a new kind this time.) When we got home I took an Ativan as recommended by my doctor and slept last night. I didn't even hear my husband get up this morning for work until he kissed me on the forehead when he left. I tend to fear sleeping pills and medicine of that type, but I know that I need sleep to start to heal the damage I've caused over the past few days. I'm actually hungry, too!

Some readers of this blog have said that OCD follows you everywhere. Indeed it does. When it is time to take a lesser paying job, I will surely encounter stresses, but my thinking is that they are of a more manageable scale.

Today work is still on my mind, and I keep fighting to let it go. At this point I think I just have to accept that, and use my tools that my therapist gave me when it comes up. I'm tired, but I won't take an Ativan until tonight because I think it's smart to stay on a normal sleep routine.

There is a spiritual aspect that I've realized, too. It always feels like I learn it and re-learn it, but I have never committed to it. I need to learn to relinquish control to God. He created me, He knows what I need, and the whole of my life is in his hands. My pastor says something that I like: "Don't finish God's story." I guess I never realized how much of a perfectionist control freak I am. I mean, from my perspective, I'm in the driver's seat! I'm hoping someone will step out in front of me who is willing to help me learn to surrender.

Three People Who Know I Have OCD

Everyone has their own opinion on this subject. Your obsessions differ from mine because the circumstances of your OCD are unique. You have harm obsessions, so you choose not to tell your child's friend's parents you have OCD. I have perfectionism obsessions, so I choose not to tell my boss. But this post is not about who I will keep in the dark about my OCD.

It's about who has helped me hold the light. (In another post, I compared my ability to conquer OCD to shining a flashlight on a monster). These people have helped me identify OCD for the ugliness it is, in light of rational reality.

1. Medical professionals. I have been in the emergency room on account of obsessions. If I hadn't told the emergency room doctor that I had OCD, he, in his inexperience in dealing with patients like me, could have contradicted what I'm learning in ERP therapy by giving me the reassurance I sought to my detriment. Or what about when I have a baby? I plan to let my obstetrician know the full extent of my condition. That way she'll know how to help me weigh real vs. exaggerated risks.
   
2. My spouse. My relationship with my husband is a healthy, loving one. He understands me, my weaknesses, and my OCD (to a workable degree). He helps me grow in dealing with the doldrums of my obsessions and compulsions, and praises me when I do well. My therapist helps us make sense of how OCD applies to married life, and she acts as a liaison between us.
   
3. God. Fine. God isn't a person. But I have made my OCD a part of my relationship with him. I pray about it, and lately have been working on giving over my thoughts to him when I'm struggling with something. So much of OCD is about craving control, and faith is an exercise in admitting I have none. Funny, that's exactly what I need to work on.

So these are my the 3 people (entities?) with whom I've shared my truth: The monster of OCD can make life difficult. But together we wield a big ol' floodlight.

For now, the in-laws will remain in the dark. ; )

My Worst Therapist Appointment: Part 2

In my previous post, you learned what happened in the waiting room on an emergency visit to a new therapist. It was April '08, and I was in the midst of an OCD crisis. I thought it didn't matter who I talked to for OCD help. Boy was I wrong.

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When they called my name I had never been more ready to get out of a waiting room. I found my way through the narrow hallway (remember, this place was like a rent-a-shed) and into the therapist's office. We began to talk about me.

He was "nice" in the most general sense of the word. If not for the OCD and the events of the prior 15 minutes, on any other occasion I would have found him satisfactory. But of course since this was the re-opening of my case, we had to go through all the silly stuff. What do I like to do? Where do I work? Am I married? How do I feel about myself? You know, all of the typical cognitive behavioral treatment getting-to-know you prodding. I only had 45 minutes with this guy, I thought, so let's get on with it.

"What do you do to relax? You should try Yoga." He went on to some generic gibberish about yoga, mantras, etc. I wasn't listening. When there were only 15 minutes left on the clock, we finally talked about why I was there.

It's Me with Scrupulosity
My obsessions at this time in my life are key to the story. At times I have dealt with scrupulosity, and this was one of them. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the term, scrupulosity is OCD with a religious spin.

People who deal with scrupulosity often feel a sense of inadequacy before God, and apply OCD to their spiritual lives. For example, they may repeat prayers, never feeling like they were "done right" or they somehow "didn't count." Long story short, I am a Christian and I believe in salvation through the sacrificial blood of Jesus Christ. But scrupulosity exists completely separate from strength of faith. (I will devote an upcoming blog post about scrupulosity in depth.)

My scrupulosity, at this time, was stronger than it had ever been. My grandfather had just passed away, and I guess you could say that stirred up some fears about the afterlife. I felt the need to ask God for forgiveness of a very personal sin. I did what the scrupulous do. I repeated prayers. I asked my husband to pray with me over and over. I even asked for reassurance, by seeking the advice of anyone I could trust to see if they thought God forgave me. It was different than "regular" OCD because I thought I could never really know if I was forgiven until I died.

Awkward Help
I thought my appointment with this new therapist would give me just enough reassurance to move on to another worry, or finally, to peace. He asked me about my worry, and I told him about it.

I think he said something like, "Everybody does that." So? That didn't matter to me. My OCD was still telling me that I hadn't really repented because I had inklings what I did was wrong when I did it. What did the therapist have to say about that, my OCD challenged him.

"Well, what does Jesus teach? Jesus teaches forgiveness." He was right. I knew it, of course, but thought, Ok, let's see what kind of a therapist we're working with here.

"Remember? In the Bible? The prostitute. Jesus said she didn't have to be stoned," he went on, making awkward allusions to one of the most (dare I say) widely-known, too-convenient pieces of scripture. People who don't know anything about the Bible know this story. And HE thought he could use this to fix ME?! It was the way he said it that got to me. Like I was supposed to believe that this new-agey guy really understood me. The moment he began misquoting scripture was the moment I checked out. For a second time that day, I had already mentally left the builiding.

Why This Matters
If I was going to be invested in this guy, and trust that he would be invested in me, I had to know that he understood me. He clearly did not. He didn't understand my beliefs, my faith, or what I hold dear. One on hand, I needed to talk to a Christian counselor. On the other, I needed someone who understood OCD and how it permeates everything that is important to me.

The moral? I needed to find a therapist who could meet me on my level. Since then, I have, and she is fantastic! Now my scrupulosity is at bay and I'm not struggling with it very often.

Even better, the healthy me knows that I don't have to die to know I'm forgiven. The Bible says, and I'm paraphrasing, "as far as the east is from the west, God will separate you from your sin." Period. Doubting God is distrusting God. It's the hardest lesson for an OCDer, but I'm working on it.