I’ve done something that I just can’t reconcile in my mind, and as far as my OCD is concerned, my mind tells me the only thing that can possibly make this feeling go away (or fix the intense anxiety caused) is my death. When my initial compulsion to the thoughts/situation occur, my normal response isn’t enough and makes me agree and feel worse. I am a horrible person!
What is it that I’ve done that is so horrible and is causing my thoughts to end up in the land of self-harm? I will only mention it if you promise not to laugh or judge… I over-charged for my Pastor’s dog’s grooming services the other day.
In actuality, I undercharged for the fee structure my salon operates at. I had expressed my distress last night to my husband, as I kept having compulsions and I felt it best if I explain why my OCD was so bad to him. So what does he do? Talks me through the logic of it (very male thing to do, you men out there).
“How long did it take to groom said dog?” Well, it took my new salon manager (with added help a few times), 2.5-3 hours.
“How long would it have taken you?” Longer. (with my physical disability, I’m slower with large breeds)
“What’s 2.5 hours times your rate?” $142.50 (we currently charge $57/hour for his weight class).
“So there’s your proof you didn’t over-charge.”
I actually charged a decent chunk less, considering I didn’t charge any other of our fees for matting and additional staff. But his logic didn’t reconcile it in my mind at all and I said as much…
I still just feel so bad.
This time he handled my feelings better than last time when it felt like he was calling them nonsense.
“Well, you see that you didn’t overcharge, but if you want to still feel bad about something else, you can.”
What’s the Problem?
I think this is just one among many triggers in recent weeks, but it’s a higher level of importance due to the connection to faith (my Pastor’s pet) and my mind is landing there because of my level of distress needs a scapegoat. Any scapegoat.
If I could get away with it and not get hauled off to an institution, I would just lay in a ball on the floor and not get up. For days. Or weeks. Or ever. If I don’t have interactions with people, there is no risk of anything triggering the OCD. I just have to worry about my own mind doing it, which quite frankly is enough on it’s own.
Dreading this weekend – OCD Avoidance
Later this morning there is a church thing with the ladies. Every 3rd Saturday it happens and I have rearranged my work schedule so I have said time off every month. Last night I told my husband that I wasn’t sure if I was going, but I knew I had already made up my mind, I wasn’t going.
I really don’t want to go to church tomorrow either. It’s not that I’m trying to predict the future, but I know myself and how my mind works. At the level of distress I am at, and with how severe my OCD is at present moment, church will be a massive struggle to maintain composure. My intrusive thoughts will be awful from the moment I arrive, until well after I leave, if it doesn’t get worse because of the message.
We have our small group coming over this Sunday and I want nothing more than to have my husband lie to them and tell them I am too ill for us to host or attend. But, I have such an abhorrence to lying, that in itself would make things worse than the solitude would make things better.
I literally feel like an OCD time bomb. Just so full of that feeling that everything is wrong (wrong with me) and there’s something I have to do, to make it feel better. I have learned to despise that feeling. It’s a lie. Nothing makes it feel better. But I keep trying. That right there is the actual definition of insanity folks. I keep trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I even know it, but there’s a lack of control to do anything about it.
Last Night
I told my Pastor many moons ago about my pain and severe leg cramps, likening them to worse than childbirth. I’m sure he thought I was exaggerating. I wish I was, especially after the hell I trudged through last night, which was hands down excruciating, physically and mentally.
My legs started bothering me around 6pm and I put on my handy-dandy leg massagers and started hydrating as best I could. I thought after a couple hours of the leg massages and hydration, perhaps I’d be ok. Around 9:30-10pm it felt like someone grabbed my leg and twisted it, and my thigh in the process was being torn/broken/ripped…it is so hard to explain. I couldn’t help but yell out in pain and then it just went from there.
My husband quickly figured out the issue through my sobs and started rubbing my thigh. He got it to a point where he could run to the shower to turn the hot water on. Then it was drag me to the hot shower and run water on my legs. It felt like I was in there for hours running hot water on my legs, rubbing them trying to ease the pain, and just crying so hard because of the intensity and the pain inside I was feeling.
Pain that intense triggers thoughts questioning God. I try to stop them, but like with any OCD thought, the more you try to stop it, the more you’re actually focusing on it and it gets stronger.
Why does this keep happening? Are you mad at me? Have I done something wrong? Am I not being a good enough Christian? Forgive me for what I’ve done…
Then the guilt comes after those thoughts, because I know God is not punishing me for some unknown wrong. I was told years ago my health problems were caused by my sin, but I no longer believe it, as it is not backed up in the slightest by facts in the Bible. I believe in God’s grace. Loving forgiveness, Christ’s sacrifice.
But those thoughts have been with me for 25+ years, even before a Pastor 10 odd years ago told me his false doctrine.
I really need the grandiosity of a bipolar mania right about now. Feeling the depths of despair attached with my OCD and physical struggle and seeing it as….unending (no cure), has taken it’s toll. I really need the feelings of unstop-ability. Along with it usually comes the feeling (knowledge) that God is for me.
I hate feeling like a fickle child. I am not. I always love God. I just don’t always feel loved or worth it.
The weekend starts now, let’s see which events I avoid…
The Obsessively Anxious 