There are certain days in the life of someone with OCD where you find that everything you are trying to achieve, i.e. in terms of moving forward is going well. You avoided washing your hands that time or you didn’t do X Y or Z compulsion. And then there are days like today.
Today was about survival. From the moment I woke up my OCD was at me. My slippers were no longer parallel. The cable of my computer was making too much contact on the floor. My cat sneezed on me. It seemed like everything was getting to me and it was bumming me out. In the end, I just had to work through it tselling myself the same things about being good enough.
My slippers were clean enough. My hands were washed enough. Things of that nature. It’s hard to play to chance especially when you are OCD. If you think you are going to die from stepping on cracks, you don’t really feel the compulsion to chance it but avoid it at all means necessary. But avoidance and acting upon compulsions is bad for you. It strengthens the feeling and the obsession. I used to be able to open doors with my hands but the fact that I used my elbows to open the doors had meant now that even if I try to touch them, I panic. They look grimey. They look dirty. It could be lacker but it could also be pooh or dirt. I don’t want to take that chance. One day I know I’ll have to face it. But today wasn’t that day. Today was just about getting by.
By the end of the day and 7pm passed, I had enough. It was time for bed and the tedious task of decontaminating before entering my room. Luckily I’ve been improving on that and an hour and a half task is now just 20-30 minutes. I just need to wipe the surfaces before hand. Anyone with actual OCD would know what I mean. I can’t stand it when people say they are a little bit OCD. It’s not a quirky little personality trait. It’s really hell. But anyway, I’m here in bed now and the world seems relatively okay. Still, I’m feeling low but that’s okay because today I’m getting by.