Disclaimer: This post is written from the heart. It’s for all of those close to me, even though I am sure many others who aren’t so close to me will read it as well. Honestly, I know that this will become gossip in some people’s eyes. Im sure many will judge. That’s okay. Im past caring what people think about this and honestly, those who judge are just uneducated and ignorant J.
I have thought about writing about this for quite a while now. Honestly the fear of what people would think has held me back though. But I am past all of that now. In retrospect, I really wish I would have spoken out sooner because I feel like it would have cleared up many misunderstandings and rumors that were started because of the lack of knowing. Anyways, I hope this will help some people understand what has been going on with me. And hopefully relieve some pent up frustration that I have had as well. If you are one of those people who think that people shouldn’t post personal things on blogs…. This post is not for you.
First off…. What do you know about OCD and anxiety? Not much you say? Oh, don’t worry. Go to these very reliable sources (cough, cough Wikipedia...) and educate yourselves for a quick minute.
I am guessing most of you did not take the time to read those. That’s fine…. Because I plan on copying and pasting the important parts :)
If you have known me for longer than 5 years, you probably know that I’m pretty social and outgoing.. but I am a constant worrier. If you didn’t know this about me… now you do. When I was 10, for example, I moved in to my newly finished basement. While down there, I was convinced that we were going to be robbed at some point. So, every night before I would go to bed, I would search in all the closets, storage rooms, and under beds to make sure no one was hiding there. At one point my dad said “Alright Steph, lets be real here…. What are you going to do if you actually find someone when you open one of those doors?” Good point, Dad.
I started taking my brothers whiffle ball bat around with me after that.
Needless to say, my central nervous system has always been slightly above that of a normal person. But never to the point that it caused any alarm. So, in September I went in and got my wisdom teeth done. Afterwards I was prescribed Percocet for the first time in my life. I only took it for about a day, but for some reason my body reacted extremely badly to the narcotic. After coming off of it, my body started exhibiting withdrawal symptoms. I was hysterical, sweating, pale, running a fever, shaking, everything. It was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to me. It went on for about 4 days and slowly lessoned to me just having panic attacks day in and day out. Which was still something completely new to me. I know that a lot of you are thinking, What? Really? That’s ridiculous. I promise its true. My body has always been sensitive to medications, but for someone reason it just did not metabolize this one well at all. By day 4, we went and saw my general practitioner who prescribed me Ativan and told me I should get in to see a psychologist to help me manage the anxiety, just in case it didn’t go away.
The next 4 months were hellish to say the least. It was a roller coaster of doctors, meds, and emotions. The Ativan that was prescribed made me feel down right suicidal. After 2 doses, I flushed them down the toilet…. Sorry to all those who probably got it in their tap water the next day ha. My anxiety was at such a high peak that I couldn’t function and I had no idea what was going on. If you have never gone 2 days with out sleep because your heart is racing…. You cant relate. If you have never felt like you were going to have a heart attack because of how fast you were breathing…. You cant relate. If you have never stayed on a couch for 3 days crying because you have no idea what is going on… you cant relate. It was literally like I went to sleep one day, and woke up a completely different person. I was terrified of everything. Its honestly hard for me to even put in to words how anxiety feels. All I know is that there were days were I honestly wished I were dead. There were many days where I felt like my life was over and I had no idea how to go on. I couldn’t figure out who I was because all I could feel was an intense sense of fear. My muscle’s were constantly tense and I felt like I had a million bricks on my chest. I spent hours every day thinking about what could have gone wrong and how I could fix it, but no matter what I tried; I found myself a crying mess on my bathroom floor almost every night.
In the mean time, I listened to the rumors, gossip and speculation about why I was so “different” all of a sudden. I listened to people speculate about my husband, saying that he must not treat me right. Or that there was something wrong with my marriage. I listened as people quietly whispered to each other that I was lazy, untrustworthy, unreliable, and moody. Every rumor broke my heart even more as I tried to figure out who I was. I knew I wasn’t all of those things. I knew my marriage was great. I knew I loved Lane. But how do you tell people that you have no idea what’s going on either? I knew that I was getting depressed because I was so anxious, but did that make me clinically depressed? I knew that I was anxious, but I couldn’t figure out what I was anxious about. Did that mean I had anxiety? I couldn’t figure it out. All I knew is that I constantly felt out of control of my emotions and fears.
I went through the process of finding a psychologist. The problem was that she, also, began treating my marriage as the problem. She started having Lane and I go in together. Which was fine, I mean who doesn’t love being taught to communicate in their new marriage…. But nothing improved with me. Mainly because the problem wasn’t my marriage, the problem was with me. So after 3 months of going in circles with my psychologist, I finally went back to my doctor to explore the option of medication. While talking to her, I broke down. I told her that I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I had no idea why I was in a constant state of panic but that I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I have an EXCELLENT doctor. She spent the next hour doing cognitive tests with me. At the end of the appointment, we went over the results. She explained to me that my problem had nothing to do with my marriage. It wasn’t just anxiety, and it wasnt depression. She told me what I had was a cut and dry case of OCD. I was super confused. I don’t count things. I don’t wash my hands a million times. I don’t tap things a certain amount of times either. She told me to go home and do some research and see if I could identify with any of the symtoms.
Sure enough…. I checked out for quite a few of them.
Obsessive–compulsive disorder (OCD) is an anxiety disorder characterized by intrusive thoughts that produce uneasiness, apprehension, fear, or worry, by repetitive behaviors aimed at reducing the associated anxiety, or by a combination of such obsessions and compulsions.
The nature and type of Purely Obsessional OCD varies greatly, but the central theme for all sufferers is the emergence of a disturbing intrusive thought or question, an unwanted/inappropriate mental image, or a frightening impulse that causes the person extreme anxiety because it is antithetical to closely held religious beliefs, morals, or societal mores.[3] While those without Purely Obsessional OCD might instinctively respond to bizarre intrusive thoughts or impulses as insignificant and part of a normal variance in the human mind, someone with Purely Obsessional OCD will respond with profound alarm followed by an intense attempt to neutralize the thought or avoid having the thought again. The person begins to ask themselves constantly "Am I really capable of something like that?" or "Could that really happen?" or "Is that really me?" (even though they usually realize that their fear is irrational, which causes them further distress)[4] and puts tremendous effort into escaping or resolving the unwanted thought. They then end up in a vicious cycle of mentally searching for reassurance and trying to get a definitive answer.
These two paragraphs changed my view of what was going on. All of a sudden I understood what was going on. I began realizing that I would walk to in to a room and be aware of everything around me that could possibly be a danger to me or anyone else. I started avoiding these things. I found myself avoiding knives, pills, guns, cleaners, anything associated with violence or danger. I would even avoid eye contact with these things or people using these things in harmless circumstances. I felt subconsciously that by avoiding these things, it lessened the chance of danger to myself or to my other loved ones.
I found myself obsessing over things that would happen in the news. I would hear about murder, rape, and violence and start thinking “Is that going to happen to me?” “What makes them different than me?” It began a vicious thought cycle in my head that would skyrocket my anxiety to an impairing state.
“For example, an intrusive thought "I could just kill Bill with this steak knife" is followed by a catastrophic misinterpretation of the thought, i.e. "How could I have such a thought? Deep down, I must be a psychopath."[13] This might lead a person to continually surf the web, reading numerous articles on defining psychopathy. This reassurance-seeking ritual will, ironically, provide no further clarification and could exacerbate the intensity of the search for the answer. There are numerous corresponding cognitive biases present, including thought-action fusion, over-importance of thoughts, and need for control over thoughts”
I would then spend hours and hours searching for reassurance that I was going to be okay and safe, thus completing my “compulsion”. I started to see that my doctor was right, I totally have OCD. It was insane to see how crippling the OCD had made me. I spent from September- December in a state of paranoia until I finally started to see what was going on.
My doctor finally suggested that I see an OCD specialist and get on some medication. The medication was a rollercoaster in and of itself, mainly because I was so afraid of it. I was so scared of all the horrible side effects that I had heard about that I was terrified to try it. “What if people think I am weak? What if It makes me violent? What if it makes me suicidal?”. Which did not help the OCD situation. But, after a couple of different tries we found one that seemed to definitely helped. I also switched to a specialist who actually dealt with strictly OCD and anxiety patients. She confirmed the diagnoses of extreme and severe OCD and anxiety and told me that the depression that I was feeling was directly tied in to the OCD.
Its been a very, very long road. But after 4 months, I finally feel like I am on top of things again. I feel like I can finally feel myself coming back. Why did all of this happen? I don’t know. Genetics load the gun and events pull the trigger. I am genetically predisposed to anxiety and depression… but for some reason the reaction to the narcotics triggered the rest of it.
So why am I blogging about all of this? Honestly, I feel like I owe it to a lot of you. I know I have missed many many things these last few months that I should have been present for. I know that I have let a lot of you down. I am not whining, or complaining about anything that’s happened. I honestly just feel like I should tell you whats up. I want you to know that this isn’t something that I made up to skip out on life, or responsibilities. I wouldn’t wish any time of mental disorder on anyone.
More than that though, I wanted to shed some light on an issue many people disregard or think is “all in people’s heads.” I think that we need to pay more attention to mental and emotional disorders and educate ourselves and others to know how to help. I will have to deal with OCD thoughts for the rest of my life probably, but I am SO grateful for the things that I have learned from this experience. I hope that we can all really try to be more sensitive to issues like this. I truly believe that if people understood more about depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, OCD and other mental disorders, that we would be able to help more people. Thus creating a stronger network of help, but also lowering suicide and violence rates.
It has caused a lot of issues in my personal life, but it has made my heart so so tender. I am so grateful for my family and friends. These last couple of months have made me decide to dedicate my life to the service of others. I don’t ever want anyone to feel alone or with out a support team. I have had so many wonderful people stand beside me through everything, but I have also had some really terrible experiences with people who jumped to conclusions or didn’t understand. I want to be a strength to others who need it and be able to help those who are dealing with similar things.
I know that a lot of you might read it and think, Steph…. Suck it up, this is not a big deal..why did you freak out so bad. And that may be true. My trials are absolutely nothing compared to those who have dealt with worse. But it has seemed like Mount Everest to me….. I think we all have things like that in our lives.
I hope that those who have been hurt by me can forgive me. I still have bad days, but I am learning so much about how to continue progressing and I am so grateful for all of you. I am so grateful for the hand I was dealt and for Heavenly Father’s loving guidance through it all. I love you guys!
