OCD... What it looked like....

You may have heard the term, OCD, being used loosely by someone describing another person who have tendencies in wanting things done a certain way and in a certain manner.  The typical, counting while you brush your teeth, lining up items, counting in your head are just a few of those tendencies. It became very clear to me, early on, that many of these people didn't realize the extent of this illness for those that have been medically diagnosed with this illness.  Who could expect them to.  I didn't even know the extent of this illness until I was diagnosed with it, in 1999, after suffering with extreme life altering symptoms for 8 years. The day the doctor looked at me and said, "Caroline, you are suffering from OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder..", was a time, after 8 long years, that I felt HOPE.  

I want to paint a picture of what these 8 years look liked for me and my family.  A time I felt there was no hope, no way out from feeling the way I did. 

Looking back....

I remember laying in bed, wondering if there were any dangerous items anywhere close? Knives, guns, ropes….etc… if there were; I did not want to know where they were at. I can not tell you how many times I asked my husband if he took his knife out if his pants pocket before he came into the bedroom.  I didn’t want it in our room…. "What is the point?" he numerously asked. "I am going to wear the pants again tomorrow. Why empty my pockets out?" I never could explain it to him. The thoughts that went through my mind, it wasn't normal, I couldn't even explain why.  After years of this, he no longer asked, he just altered how he did things so that I would not worry.  Honestly, the fear was always there, but when some of the  actions were performed, I felt a 5% temporary relief. (Husband moving items, etc...)  If I saw his knife on the table or a counter, I had to make sure I looked at something else to clear the image from my mind.    I would lay in bed and think, "what if I got up in the middle of the night and subconsciously hurt my family?"  I knew my way of thinking was wrong… but I didn't understand it, nor could I explain it. It didn’t matter how hard i tried,  these thoughts devoured my every waking moment.  It was destroying my family.  I remember being pregnant with our first kid and driving down 405 in traffic and looking at my wedding ring and thinking, "did I take that off ever?  Was the baby even my husbands?  Did I have an affair and not even know it?"  I know, as I type this I think, "oh my gosh.How could I ever have thought that way?"  It makes no sense,….. OCD… makes no senses at all... but the mind is so powerful and when it is misfiring, nothing makes sense.   

Everything seemed to be dirty...

I just have bad circulation.... That is why my hands were always chapped and bleeding… that is originally what my dad told me as a teenager, and it worked great, but when by 19 years of age, I had to wash them so much, because of my illness, they did actually bleed.  I would tell people it was because I had very poor circulation and dry skin.  If I washed them and then bumped into the door, then I went right back and washed them again. I would buy hand soap in large quantities  

I disinfected everything in our home.  Doorknobs, counters, doors, faucet handles, tables… I know you are probably thinking, “well that is a good habit to be in”, but it was not of the normal amount.  Try daily, try multiple times a day.  And if I couldn't clean it, or was too afraid to clean it, then I would do everything in my power to make sure that my hubby or kids would not come in contact with whatever it was.  And if they did, I was either forcing my kids to wash their hands or nagging my husband to go wash his.  As I type this.... I am sick to think of the years my husband endured this. Luckily our kids were young enough when I was first diagnosed, they don’t remember a lot of this.  I am thankful for a forgiving husband and a loving Father in Heaven.

So, for many years, we did not eat a lot of chicken.  I was so afraid of touching anything raw.  It literally made me sick to my stomach to think about what could happen if my family got sick. What if something was cross contaminated in the process and I fed it to them?  Oh my… shopping at the stores was a HUGE ordeal.  I would hold my clothes against me, when I leaned to pick out anything in the meat department, afraid that I would contaminate my clothing ultimately bringing it home to my family.  I usually did not shop for raw meat with my kids because I was afraid of them being in the meat department or coming in contact with it in the cart. Oh, carts at the store... that was another situation it itself. I remember one night making spaghetti and opening a can of mushrooms and seeing a dark spot in the can. I immediately dumped it out, but the fear was already present. That evening so impacted my life, I still can remember feeling so ill.  My thoughts were, “did that can come in contact with anything?  Did it splatter when I took the lid off and get on something? The can opener would have to be disinfected.  I will have to change my clothes and be very careful when I do, not to bump my hair. (This was in case I got any of it on my clothes.)  What if my clothes, in the laundry basket cross contaminated something else? (Only I would do laundry because I knew how to take care of it, not my husband) For years, he did not do laundry because of my fears.  He didn’t know that. I just told him it was my job.  He worked out of the home, the home was my work.  Can you imagine the time and energy that was spent worrying about all of this?  Oh and it even got better, I did not and still don’t eat anyones homemade canned items.  Nothing!  I took a class on healthy cooking and all they had to say was “botulism” and my life with canned foods, was over with.  I had eaten so much of it growing up but after hearing what COULD happen, every fear became as real as breathing. If I was breathing... I was walking in uncontrollable fear.

Thank you for sticking around and reading the beginning of my walk.... My Story... Please continue to come back... for I just barely scrapped the surface of my journey with OCD.  My heart is to share and offer hope to others.  
~Caroline