It Seems Like an Endless Circle of Doom and Gloom | Teen Ink

It Seems Like an Endless Circle of Doom and Gloom

November 18, 2013
By Anonymous

123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789123456789. Okay, now I can start. Wait, just a second while I go check

a few things, again, and again, and again, and again, one last time. Now I can start--hang on--I was just kidding, I need to sit through a vision of me killing myself, once, twice. Done. Where was I...
Living with OCD can be a harrowing experience. It seems like an endless cycle of doom and gloom. That’s why this girl; an OCD sufferer, is attempting to define her condition. She wants to be able to define her condition so she can better cope with it. She stares blankly at the computer screen, it’s going to be much harder than she thought it would be to define her mental illness. However, with the help of the internet, counselors and her personal insight, she thinks it can be done. She begins to break her condition down into groups using knowledge she gained from her sources; she bends over the keyboard and types.

Group one:
The basic definition. OCD: Obsessive, Compulsive, Disorder: can be defined as someone who has recurring thoughts or visions that are accompanied by extreme anxiety, and are compelled to perform a ritual or action to get momentary anxiety relief. Examples include: washing hands, checking locks and doors, counting, touching things, or playing with facial hair. The visions and rituals that come with OCD cause distress and get in the way of daily life.("NIMH") She stops typing, most of these symptoms are not what she experiences. She counts, spells words out, and repeats things in her head to try to release some of her anxiety. Spelling out a few words, she then resumes typing.

Group two:
Types: Autogenous, Reactive.("OCD types ") Autogenous is when involuntary, uncontrollable thoughts are beheld without any discernable trigger. Reactive is defined as an external event triggering a vision or thought. she experiences Reactive Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, with a few Autogenous visions thrown in every once in a while.
Group Three: There are many different types of OCD obsessions including, Checking, Morality, Harming/Aggression, Hoarding, Sexual/Religious, and Others.("OCD types ")Checking is when someone has to check something over and over to justify their obsession. Morality is where there is an obsession with always doing the morally correct thing to do. Harming/Aggression is where a vision or thought is about hurting oneself or a valued friend/family member. Hoarding is where the individual can’t bring themselves to let go of “useless” items for the fear of someday needing them. Sexual/Religious is where someone has unwanted sexual thoughts and or orientation fears, and/or fears of the church. She sits back in her worn desk chair and looks at the ceiling, counting all of the cracks spider webbing across it. If she doesn't she might get an Harming/Aggressive vision-her most common obsession-which might be closely followed by a Morally, or Checking vision. Finished counting she returns to her typing.

Group Four:
My counselor's advice: “People with OCD know their fears are irrational but that does nothing against the powerful wave of anxiety that comes with these fears. Thats why sufferers have compulsions.” (my counselor.) To help fight against it you need to give it a name and an image so that it doesn't feel like you're fighting yourself. Sometimes it feels like OCD is a part of you but its not. She looks over her computer screen at a plush red felt apple she hand sewed. She named it her Crabby Apple, the face of her OCD. She feels better knowing her thoughts are not her own, just her “Crabby Apple” acting up. She doesn't have to lie awake, anymore, at night wondering if shes crazy.

Group five:
She stares blankly at the screen for a long time. What else is there to say? She listed all the different types of OCD, she defined the definition. However she feels like she didn’t quite define her specific condition: what she experiences in her visions. She starts counting the tick-tock, of the clock then jolts herself back to the screen.

Group Five:
What I see when I get a vision from my OCD “crabby apple”. Sometimes I use a knife, or pills, or other sharp objects, like a drill or something. In my visions, not in real life (I would never do something like that) I kill myself. Every day I die. I know this sounds bizarre, but its true. If I’m walking the dogs in the morning and a car pulls up while I’m waiting to cross the street, I get a vision of throwing myself under the wheels.(crabby.) Sometimes I get sick from watching the visions, sick to my stomach. That is my compulsion, my dirty little secret. My disorder brings out the opposite of what I want or believe, and parades it before my eyes.

Group Six:
This is difficult to admit: Sometimes I try to tell someone at school-who I trust-about my disorder. They never understand. So I turned to the professionals for help. They delivered. I have learned more from them in the past week about how to combat OCD, than I have in the lifetime of having this disorder.
She sits back, satisfied with her writing. She just sits and thinks, for once not needing to count or spell or check. Its wonderful. Just defining her problems has lifted a weight off her shoulders. This is some good progress, she can tell her counselor when she next sees her. She shuts down the computer, and closes the laptop. She leaves the room to join the outside world, with a wisp of a smile upon her lips.


The author's comments:
All names of people are fictional and made up, however this is a true story. My story.

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