Okay, so there isn’t that much that I don’t know when it comes to my thoughts and Mr Black (read my previous blogs if you don’t know who that little bastard is) but I recently went to my support group, I think apart from the guy who set it up I’m the longest returning member. Even when I’m feeling great I still pop along to the sessions because, well, why the hell not? Plus it’s good to see someone who is doing well; it shows that there’s light at the end of the tunnel.
(below is a typical support group meeting)
Anyway while I was there, a newbie came to the group for the first time, she was lovely and did the usual thing (you know, you say your name and introduce yourself like you’re at a stereotypical Alcohol Anonymous meeting) she told us a little about her type of OCD and then she said something that made me think. She said she had a type of confessional OCD. She spoke about some of the things that she has to tell people in order for her anxiety to reduce.
I CAN RELATE
Ever since I can remember I have always been ridiculously honest, to the point where I feel awful if I think horrible things about someone or if I have told a white lie to help a surprise or if I’ve accidentally looked at another guys crotch. Then out of nowhere I start the sweating, I start to feel sick and my head is going 10000 mph and then from the shadows I hear “MR BLACK IS HEEEERRRRREEEEEEE’ then
BLERGHHHHHH
I have to go and speak to the person I vented about and tell them what I thought, or I ruin the surprise because I tell them the secret or I tell my boyfriend I looked at another man’s crotch.. It’s almost like if I don’t tell people what I’m thinking then I’m betraying them. I’m lying, I’m a cheat. I confess absolutely everything to my boyfriend, some of my thoughts can be really really mean.
It’s word vomit.
Kind of like I’m a magician, you know the ones which pull all of the hankies out of their mouth, except instead of hankies, imagine insults, really mean insults about the people you love and then you hand that hankie to the person you have insulted and say
‘Good day Sir, enjoy my insults’
I’m lucky I have people close to me who understand that living with OCD isn’t a dream. There are no perks to having OCD, having to wash your hands doesn’t mean its good because you’re constantly clean. Having intrusive thoughts isn’t a plus because it makes you an honest person. Having to turn off the electric every night before you sleep doesn’t mean that you’re being safe.
GUYS this is our lives, there are NO perks to OCD. We just have to keep fighting the little bastards so they don’t take over our lives.
So the point of this blog….. it’s not to just get something off my chest (well maybe it is….that’s the point of some blogs) it’s to tell you that OCD takes many forms, like a shape shifter….like Miss McGonagall in Harry Potter when she turns into a cat. OCD can morph into all sorts and confessional OCD is just one of them.
If you feel yourself suffering with confessional OCD or as I like to call It word vomit, you’re not alone, we are all here for each other. One of the greatest things about OCD (I know I said no perks, but this isn’t really a perk, it’s more of a statement) is the support. The people who know you the best are your loved ones, but the people who UNDERSTAND the most are the warriors who fight OCD, they come in the form of a sufferer or a loved one standing tall besides you. The support that we give to one another is IN-FUCKING-CREDIBLE!!
WE SHOULD BE SO PROUD
So until next time remember – “The higher you get, the lower you sink”
ocd smiles 