Lists

As of yesterday, I've been on my own for a week. Mom left last Monday, and it's good to be self-sufficient again. Even though my rituals still keep me very limited, I don't feel like the helpless lump that I was about a month ago. There's quite a lot I want to write about in this post, and I think the content would be best facilitated by creating some lists.

I've accomplished some new (and exciting!) progress working against my OCD rituals. In the past week or so, I've achieved the following:

• Staying out of the house until 4:16
• Beginning to work on my dissertation again
• Eating more sweets (my OCD objected to candy, unfortunately)
• Completely taking care of myself, without help from Mom or Dad
• Feeling more comfortable putting effort into my appearance (wearing the clothes/jewelry/makeup that I want to)

Additionally, friends and family have offered tons of support. Did you know that my friends make up a small army of super-caring, ultra-generous, swift-acting, helper-people? Things I've received (whether tangible or intangible) include: 

• Tons of hugs, good thoughts, emails, calls, etc.
• Incredibly thoughtful cards from Kerry, Amanda, Stephanie, Lauren, Meg, Pamela and Nikki (seriously, I teared up when reading these)
• A gift from my Etsy wish list, courtesy of Lauren, that I'm anticipating with bated breath
• Coloring books (!!) from Meg
• Steven has offered Alaskan salmon that he caught
• A puzzle from Tekla
• Awesome lunch dates with Dustin, Stephanie, Amanda, and many more upcoming plans on my calendar to look forward to

Now that I'm more open about my OCD, many acquaintances and co-workers inquire about my improvement. My standard response usually alludes to how surreal things have felt, but I've been telling so many people how lucky I am to have such loving friends in my life. I, truly, would not be in such good shape and making such swift progress if it weren't for all of you. 

FAQ

My mom has been staying with me recently, and though she has a first-hand glimpse of what I've been going through, she (understandably) has questions about the manifestation of OCD. The disorder isn't realistically represented in popular culture, so there are a lot of misconceptions about it. I thought I'd write a little bit of information for anyone who might be reading this journal that has questions.

• OCD is an anxiety disorder arising because of neurological malfunctioning. Anxiety is your brain's warning system, but if you have OCD, the warning system doesn't work correctly. Therefore, you experience the sensation of danger even when you know everything's fine.
• Individuals living with OCD usually understand that their obsessions and compulsions are irrational and excessive. In TV shows and movies, OCD individuals are often portrayed as enjoying perfection, order, or cleanliness. Someone who enjoys excessive perfection or cleanliness might have Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder. With OCD, however, the individual knows that their fears are irrational, but can't stop feeling afraid. They also won't enjoy performing compulsions: the only reason they do the compulsions is to relieve anxiety. 
• OCD isn't primarily about cleanliness. True, some sufferers do fear germs or dirt, and this variety of the disorder is called contamination OCD. However, other iterations of the condition might make the person fear causing or receiving harm, breaking moral codes, or getting rid of personal possessions. 
• Finally, it's often not easy to identify a person that has OCD. Frequently, when I tell someone about my disorder, they'll say "I would have never known!" or "You seem so put together!" The reality of OCD, however, is that about 2-3 million adults and 500,000 children experience the illness at any given time. Most people with OCD hide the disorder out of embarrassment. In fact, OCD has been linked to above average intelligence and high achievement. 

If you google image search "OCD brain" you can see pictures that show how an OC individual's brain works differently than those who don't have the disorder. I'm very open to answering questions from friends or family, since it's important to me to raise awareness about the realities of the illness. 

Optimism

I've recently discovered that securing treating for OCD is almost as challenging as battling the disorder. In the last few days I've made some progress with my rituals, but have mostly been trying to make sure all the odds and ends with my new doctors are sorted out.

Insurance. The new treatment center I'm working with is "out of network" for my health insurance. This means that Blue Cross/Blue Shield will only cover part of my medical expenses. However, the people at AustinOCD suggested I try to get an exception granted to me since they're the only real specialists in town who treat OCD. I made lots of phone calls to BC/BS, and after speaking to many corporate bureaucrats, I've created an official request for them to cover my treatment costs. The people I spoke with said that there was a good chance for me to get coverage, so I'm optimistic.

Medication. I'm in the process of making my last medication adjustment. Two weeks ago I reduced my Ativan dosage by half, and right now I'm stepping off the medication entirely. Because of the difficulty of all my previous medication adjustments, I was very (very) nervous about this final one. I've also been informed that the withdrawal from this type of chemical, called a benzodiazepine, can be particularly hard.  I really don't want to lose any of the progress I've made, so I was bracing for impact with this med cessation. My anxiety has definitely been higher than usual, but I'm staying strong to get through this last withdrawal period.

Here are some things I'm looking forward to:

• My body chemistry being in balance again so I can start working on CBT/ERP with full force
• Getting to work again on my dissertation
• Watching Dancing with the Stars tonight with my mom (she's a big fan). 
• Spring 

My recent flare-up of my OCD has caused me to re-think my relationship to the condition, as well as how others perceive me. Like a lot of people living with OCD (I hate to say "OCD sufferer" since it sounds so depressing) I've hidden my quirks and rituals from friends and family. Now that my OCD is more pronounced, it's a little bit harder to hide.

I've noticed something interesting about how I represent the condition to others. Whenever I do an OCD ritual in front of someone else, or whenever a compulsive behavior might seem odd to another person, I have a knee-jerk tendency to say "Sorry." Sometimes I apologize multiple times.

Case in point: at night, my  rituals necessitate I walk in a certain pattern in front of my coffee table. Mom, who's been staying with me, sometimes sits on the couch and when I walk in past her I have to ask her to move her legs so I can get by. I feel so awkward and bad asking her to move her legs, and I usually blurt out "Sorry, you're not in the way, it's just me."

Of course, there's a lot of feminist writing on the topic of women saying "Sorry" more frequently than men. It makes me wonder when and where it's appropriate to apologize for my OCD. Obviously, I didn't choose to have OCD, but I can (generally) choose how and where I give into it. Is apologizing to others just making me feel more ashamed about the condition? Is it appropriate or socially convenient?

Happy Sunday, blog world. This weekend has been pretty good. Mostly, my homework involved socializing. Dr. D encouraged me pretty strongly spend lots of time with my friends and family. They're my support system and also help me feel tons better.

Friday afternoon my aunt, cousin, and her two little children came into town and we had a long afternoon lunch. I was nervous because it was a Friday - recently, the weekends have been making me nervous because it's a long stretch of time where I can't get into contact with my doctors if I need to. However, I think this weekend I was less anxious than the previous weekend. This anxiousness about weekends is new for me, and quite frankly it sucks.

Yesterday was a big step because I went out and socialized on my own, without Mom! I didn't rely on Mom to drive or pay at all. I went out to lunch with my friend Tekla and ate a massive burrito. We bummed around a little bit and then I took her home. Later, I went to Target to buy this pretty vase I've been coveting. So, I guess I allowed myself to have a good thing. I rewarded myself - this is good.

Also, I went two whole days without crying. This isn't necessarily an accomplishment, per se, but an indicator of my mood stabilizing and my body adapting to the new medications. Dr. E said that my regular crying jags were probably being produced by the medication swap and my body/hormones adjusting. I didn't cry at all on Thursday or Friday. Yesterday I did get upset, though.

Sometimes I get really frustrated with the fact that I have OCD. I start to ask lots of unproductive questions like "Why did this have to happen to me?" or try to tell the universe that it's not fair for me to have this stupid illness. I suppose I'm grieving - from what I understand this kind of anger and sadness is normal. I'm just trying to let myself feel my feelings, whatever they are.

Doctor's Visit

I just met with my psychiatrist, Dr. E (who I've been calling my "doctor" in my earlier posts). She wanted to see me today to check in about how the recovery was going and see if we needed to make any adjustments. She's this shorter, perky lady who is very, very smart; so, it's very nice to see her. Also there are only particular types of women that I know who legitimately look good in pantsuits, and she is one of them.

In list-form, here's the situation:

Medication: My mood has been getting better, little by little, over the past two weeks. Dr. E says this is a good sign since that means I'm responding to the newer medication, an SSRI called Sertraline. Because I'm responding to it, I won't need to be put on an additional, heavier, medication in order to amplify the effects of the Sertraline. However, we are going to increase my dosage of my SSRI, starting today. I'm going to stay on the supplementary, short-term medication (Ativan) for the moment. Over the course of the next three weeks I'll wean myself off of that one.

Mood Stuff: I should continue to feel better, and the crying jags should start to taper off. I've been getting stuck in them only every other day or so. Dr. E says that I might have a some rough days, but that that's ok. Overall, the strings of "good" days should continue to get longer and longer.

Rituals: The increased dosage of the meds should eventually, in conjunction with my work with my counselor, help the rituals reduce in number and duration. I've had several little victories this week: I went back to work, I cooked dinner for myself, and pushed my rituals back to 5:25.

For the future: I'm going to see how I adjust to the new medication and check back in with Dr. E in four weeks.

Right now Mom's still staying with me, and she might be here for the next two weeks. I'm really grateful that she's been able to stay, even though I feel bad for keeping her here so long.

Mostly, right now I'm feeling really bummed because of something I talked about with Dr. E. Up until now, I'd been living with the assumption that my OCD was mild. Because of recent events, though, I've had to talk with Dr. E about the extent of my anxiety and she seems to think that the condition wasn't mild at all. According to her, I was, sort of just managing, and working my life around my OCD. Today in her office, I was asking (as I often do now),

"How did this happen? My OCD used to be so mild."

And she responded, "Was it really mild?"

Even a few hours a day spent performing rituals adds up. That's a lot of time. I guess I've been enjoying feeling like mine was a marginal, super-mild case of OCD. I felt like I didn't really have to think about it that much. I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that I actually have, for realz, OCD. I'm trying to stay positive about this - because my doctors know the full extent of my condition, and I'm not trying to pretend like everything is fine, they can treat the disorder better. But it's hard to admit the way I've actually been living - it means owning up to the depth of the problem.