Hey everyone,
So today is Wednesday....basically Thursday.... so practically the weekend...no? Ever the optimist...
Today I wanted to talk a little about the past two weeks. There have been some ups and in response some downs, but that's kind of how these things go.
After my last post on depression, as luck would have it (sarcasm) I had an episode, albeit an extremely brief one, for which I'm incredibly grateful. It begun on a Wednesday and as I described before, crept up on me like a thief in the night, and before I knew it I had that feeling of hopelessness. I was teary, exhausted and unsociable. It was as if all of my insecurities suddenly had a spot light upon them and I just felt overwhelmed by everything and just wanted to go hide in my bed for eternity.
Thankfully, I had a meeting with my psychologist on the Friday, which provided me with an opportunity to vent to a neutral source about how I was feeling. As much as I usually shy away from discussing my feelings during a depressive episode, it felt good to share my thoughts and I came out feeling ready to tackle the issues haunting me and address them head-on. Thankfully within a couple of days my mood had improved substantially and I feel a lot of this was to do with mindfulness and not avoiding the issues and thoughts in my head.
I can honestly say I have never experienced such a brief spell of low mood and hope that the next one is just as forgiving, however, if and when that happens, I plan to attack it in the same way, proactively and head on.
The following week was considerably more positive and even involved a visit to London. As you know from my previous posts, London is not my favourite place. It represents a period of my life which I would rather forget and causes my anxiety levels to sky rocket. However, I refused to let my OCD prevent me from attending yet another event and chose to act in a way consistent with my goals and beliefs, as opposed to my OCD.
My oldest and closest friend and I had planned to go to the concert of a band we had loved since childhood. I had booked the day off work in order to mentally prepare myself and relax as much as possible, prior to the evenings activities. It's fair to say the journey to Hammersmith was filled with anxiety and stress. Upon arriving at Waterloo, I was immediately reminded of past feelings of loneliness, depression and exhaustion. There was a moment in Boots as Hannah and I stocked up on some essentials, that I thought back to all the times I had visited this store alone, buying countless numbers of antibacterial gel and Carex hand wash, feeling like a drug addict in search of their next hit. As I looked at Hannah stood next to me at the till, I felt the tears forming in my eyes, however, I chose to acknowledge the feelings and let them go, focusing on the present moment. I wasn't alone anymore in the midst of my illness, I was here with my best friend, about to attend the gig of a band we had loved since our pre-teen years. I wasn't buying soap, I was now in a different place. I won't say it was easy, but I got through it and can honestly say I had a great evening, we laughed, we sang (badly) and it felt a little like old times again, when I actually would enjoy going out.
Queueing outside the venue was probably the worst part. We were guided through a maze of pavements in darkness, as we weaved through I was scanning the ground for any dark patches and I inevitably saw things which caused me anxiety. However, I simply accepted this and moved forward. Hannah did her best to reassure me, and whist I originally appreciated this, after a few seconds thought, I said out loud, 'the thing is, I shouldn't be thinking it's probably not poo, I should just think it is and think it's not going to hurt me'. That was undoubtedly a huge step for my thought processes and despite the anxiety staying with me throughout the evening, it did reduce and I managed to enjoy myself.
I think I most definitely need to ensure I keep practising the mindfulness techniques and realise when I am using the various negative thought processes. However, I feel that the little I do know at the moment has helped me in challenging the OCD thoughts.
I have an incredibly long journey ahead still, but at last I feel I am beginning to live my life in a way which is consistent with MY beliefs and desires, as opposed to the OCD thoughts.
Thanks for reading.
Becca xoxo
Wednesday 30 October 2013
Friday 11 October 2013
Greetings and apologies...
Hey everyone,
First let me start by apologising for my lack of blogging activity as of late, had a bit of a mare with my gmail account and so had to create a whole new one which, as you have probably realised, meant I had to then copy over all the posts from my blog onto this new one (NIGHTMARE-gah, technology). So yes, sorry! Also, on a side note, why do Goggle make it ny-on impossible to recover your account...just a hint big guys.
Anyway, today is Mental Health Awareness day and so I really wanted to ensure I nailed down a post today of all days.
I really wanted to talk about an aspect of my life which I haven't really discussed in too much detail, and that's my battle with depression-I'm not going to harp on, I just feel it requires a little explanation. So far my main focus has been with the OCD, as this is the more prevalent of the two currently. However, depression is always just a few steps behind, lurking. Similarly to the OCD, I've suffered with depression throughout most of my life, since the onset of adolescence. It seemed as soon as I hit puberty, gone were the days where my lowest mood revolved around whether or not an episode of The Fresh Prince was a repeat on BBC2 and instead I began to experience deeply unsettling moods which would linger for days, even weeks at a time.
I was put on 'the pill' in the hope of calming down my mood swings, but to little avail and I pretty much continued like this for years. Although as I grew older, I noticed my low moods would also grow in severity and length of time. Once alcohol and boys were introduced, these just fuelled the fire which resulted in a nice little cocktail of the depression mixed with the quintessential teenage woes of heartache and binge drinking.
It was only within the past three or four years that antidepressants were introduced to me. I was extremely hesitant after hearing horror stories of dependency and withdrawal, but in the end it seemed to be the only solution. After testing out a variety of brands, I finally settled with Sertraline, which so far seems to be doing the trick. I recall the worst being Chlomipramine (sp?), I mean 'WOW', did they ever turn me into a fully fledged 'nutter'. I was aggressive, hysterical and when I wasn't either screaming/crying, I was asleep, tranquillised to the gills! (obviously, different people have different reactions to different brands, so please discuss this with your doctor, this is just my experience).
So as I said, now I've settled rather nicely into Sertraline, my moods have stabilised and I feel like me again. It's funny, someone asked me the other day 'I wonder what you'd be like if you weren't on your meds?'. I replied 'this is me', without sounding too cliche, 'this is me', and it is. The medication doesn't alter my personality, rather it allows it to shine through all the crap. The depression steals myself from...myself. Often people remark on how antidepressants leave them numb and whilst I can understand this, I don't feel this way. I can honestly say I haven't felt this 'myself' in a long time and it's really, really NICE (for want of a better word).
The scary thing is, I've recently reduced my dosage, in the hope of eventually being med free, and this got me thinking. The thing I am most scared of (on par with dog mess even) is having another episode. Whilst blindness is my ultimate fear, I can honestly say a depressive episode is just as detrimental and terrifying in terms of my general existence. Depression is like a stalker in one of my crappy horror slasher films. It gives no warning, no siren or alarm will sound, it just appears one day and surprises you and once it's there you have no idea where it came from or how long it's going to stick around for. That's the scary part...the not knowing.
However, I do feel more capable of recognising the triggers for these episodes. I now have a much better understanding of my limits, that's probably the one thing I have taken from the London episode; not to push to the point of no return, to recognise and seek help or remove myself from that situation.
This was the point of this post really, if any of you are in a situation which you feel is potentially detrimental to you, please try and seek some guidance, I took a while and tried to resolve the issue alone which was both upsetting and destructive. If you have any questions or just need someone to talk to, please don't hesitate to say 'hi', I know I would have appreciated something similar when I felt my most alone a year ago.
Thanks
Becca xoxo
First let me start by apologising for my lack of blogging activity as of late, had a bit of a mare with my gmail account and so had to create a whole new one which, as you have probably realised, meant I had to then copy over all the posts from my blog onto this new one (NIGHTMARE-gah, technology). So yes, sorry! Also, on a side note, why do Goggle make it ny-on impossible to recover your account...just a hint big guys.
Anyway, today is Mental Health Awareness day and so I really wanted to ensure I nailed down a post today of all days.
I really wanted to talk about an aspect of my life which I haven't really discussed in too much detail, and that's my battle with depression-I'm not going to harp on, I just feel it requires a little explanation. So far my main focus has been with the OCD, as this is the more prevalent of the two currently. However, depression is always just a few steps behind, lurking. Similarly to the OCD, I've suffered with depression throughout most of my life, since the onset of adolescence. It seemed as soon as I hit puberty, gone were the days where my lowest mood revolved around whether or not an episode of The Fresh Prince was a repeat on BBC2 and instead I began to experience deeply unsettling moods which would linger for days, even weeks at a time.
I was put on 'the pill' in the hope of calming down my mood swings, but to little avail and I pretty much continued like this for years. Although as I grew older, I noticed my low moods would also grow in severity and length of time. Once alcohol and boys were introduced, these just fuelled the fire which resulted in a nice little cocktail of the depression mixed with the quintessential teenage woes of heartache and binge drinking.
It was only within the past three or four years that antidepressants were introduced to me. I was extremely hesitant after hearing horror stories of dependency and withdrawal, but in the end it seemed to be the only solution. After testing out a variety of brands, I finally settled with Sertraline, which so far seems to be doing the trick. I recall the worst being Chlomipramine (sp?), I mean 'WOW', did they ever turn me into a fully fledged 'nutter'. I was aggressive, hysterical and when I wasn't either screaming/crying, I was asleep, tranquillised to the gills! (obviously, different people have different reactions to different brands, so please discuss this with your doctor, this is just my experience).
So as I said, now I've settled rather nicely into Sertraline, my moods have stabilised and I feel like me again. It's funny, someone asked me the other day 'I wonder what you'd be like if you weren't on your meds?'. I replied 'this is me', without sounding too cliche, 'this is me', and it is. The medication doesn't alter my personality, rather it allows it to shine through all the crap. The depression steals myself from...myself. Often people remark on how antidepressants leave them numb and whilst I can understand this, I don't feel this way. I can honestly say I haven't felt this 'myself' in a long time and it's really, really NICE (for want of a better word).
The scary thing is, I've recently reduced my dosage, in the hope of eventually being med free, and this got me thinking. The thing I am most scared of (on par with dog mess even) is having another episode. Whilst blindness is my ultimate fear, I can honestly say a depressive episode is just as detrimental and terrifying in terms of my general existence. Depression is like a stalker in one of my crappy horror slasher films. It gives no warning, no siren or alarm will sound, it just appears one day and surprises you and once it's there you have no idea where it came from or how long it's going to stick around for. That's the scary part...the not knowing.
However, I do feel more capable of recognising the triggers for these episodes. I now have a much better understanding of my limits, that's probably the one thing I have taken from the London episode; not to push to the point of no return, to recognise and seek help or remove myself from that situation.
This was the point of this post really, if any of you are in a situation which you feel is potentially detrimental to you, please try and seek some guidance, I took a while and tried to resolve the issue alone which was both upsetting and destructive. If you have any questions or just need someone to talk to, please don't hesitate to say 'hi', I know I would have appreciated something similar when I felt my most alone a year ago.
Thanks
Becca xoxo
Thursday 10 October 2013
What's normal...?
So I wasn't planning on blogging today but I figured whilst I was inspired (a.k.a angry) I should just run with it. I have just scanned through Twitter and found one tweet in particular which really struck a nerve. With reference to the recent show 'Extreme OCD Camp', a girl had written (to summarise) 'watching OCD camp makes me feel normal'. Not only did I find this incredibly upsetting but also frustrating. To be fair, the girl isn't entirely to blame, it's only based on what little knowledge she has of the condition and whose fault is that? Not hers.
The thing I have found most challenging throughout all of this, isn't necessarily the condition itself (I mean don't get me wrong, it's a sodding nightmare) but it's more other peoples responses which are the real struggle. When people meet me they more often than not see a confident, bubbly young woman. OCD isn't like a broken leg, you can't see it, it is often deep seated within the confines of ones mind. This is where the trouble starts. Especially when you are presented with an individual who appears 'normal' on the exterior. People cannot fathom this juxtaposition of human nature, 'but you seem so confident, how can you have a mental illness?'. This is a question I have had to face a multitude of times and to this day, still don't really know the answer. I have no idea why I am the way I am. I had a fairly standard, happy childhood, I have a loving and stable family, good friends. There has been no real trauma up until the last three of four years, so why did I develop this condition? Scientists still aren't exactly sure, it's a chemical cause but whether this is due to faulty genes or our experiences post womb, the answer is still unclear. Lord knows my Mum has plagued herself with guilt for years, blaming herself for the way I am, but at the end of the day, this is how I've developed and that's that.
I do wish though that some individuals would open up their mind a little. I am pretty upfront and frank when it comes to my illness, I have no qualms with regards to answering questions or discussing it, as long as the recipient is open minded. They may be the most 'normal' person in the world in their own isolated opinion, but I bet if you were to scratch the surface there would be some skeleton lurking, whether it be a penchant for peanut butter covered prunes or the need to reassure themself with a certain word or phrase in a moment of anxiety. We all have ticks and quirks, idiosyncrasies, whatever you wish to call them. So for this girl to compare herself to those featured on Extreme OCD Camp, all I can fathom is she must have some sort of 'abnormal' trait.
The point of this post really is that we need to ensure the right information about the condition is being projected out into society. OCD isn't something to be dismissed, ridiculed or ignored. Of course sufferers and their carers can have a little relief giggle if appropriate but I'm talking about society mocking the illness. A perfect example of my current OCD trait, contamination. The first question out of most peoples mouths is 'so you like things tidy or in order, right?' NO. One thing which isn't recognised is that OCD is EXTREMELY specific. Yes I am terrified of dog's mess but put me next to a great big steaming cow pat and I'd be laughing. I am not a tidy person by nature, my clothes are often strewn all over my bed with cushions and makeup everywhere. My focus is with this one particular issue.
All I can hope is that the television networks decide to produce more shows such as 'Extreme OCD Camp' as this opened up societies eyes to the various forms of the condition and its various victims. OCD doesn't care if you're supposedly 'normal' or not, it can nestle down in the most logical of minds.
Becca xoxo
The thing I have found most challenging throughout all of this, isn't necessarily the condition itself (I mean don't get me wrong, it's a sodding nightmare) but it's more other peoples responses which are the real struggle. When people meet me they more often than not see a confident, bubbly young woman. OCD isn't like a broken leg, you can't see it, it is often deep seated within the confines of ones mind. This is where the trouble starts. Especially when you are presented with an individual who appears 'normal' on the exterior. People cannot fathom this juxtaposition of human nature, 'but you seem so confident, how can you have a mental illness?'. This is a question I have had to face a multitude of times and to this day, still don't really know the answer. I have no idea why I am the way I am. I had a fairly standard, happy childhood, I have a loving and stable family, good friends. There has been no real trauma up until the last three of four years, so why did I develop this condition? Scientists still aren't exactly sure, it's a chemical cause but whether this is due to faulty genes or our experiences post womb, the answer is still unclear. Lord knows my Mum has plagued herself with guilt for years, blaming herself for the way I am, but at the end of the day, this is how I've developed and that's that.
I do wish though that some individuals would open up their mind a little. I am pretty upfront and frank when it comes to my illness, I have no qualms with regards to answering questions or discussing it, as long as the recipient is open minded. They may be the most 'normal' person in the world in their own isolated opinion, but I bet if you were to scratch the surface there would be some skeleton lurking, whether it be a penchant for peanut butter covered prunes or the need to reassure themself with a certain word or phrase in a moment of anxiety. We all have ticks and quirks, idiosyncrasies, whatever you wish to call them. So for this girl to compare herself to those featured on Extreme OCD Camp, all I can fathom is she must have some sort of 'abnormal' trait.
The point of this post really is that we need to ensure the right information about the condition is being projected out into society. OCD isn't something to be dismissed, ridiculed or ignored. Of course sufferers and their carers can have a little relief giggle if appropriate but I'm talking about society mocking the illness. A perfect example of my current OCD trait, contamination. The first question out of most peoples mouths is 'so you like things tidy or in order, right?' NO. One thing which isn't recognised is that OCD is EXTREMELY specific. Yes I am terrified of dog's mess but put me next to a great big steaming cow pat and I'd be laughing. I am not a tidy person by nature, my clothes are often strewn all over my bed with cushions and makeup everywhere. My focus is with this one particular issue.
All I can hope is that the television networks decide to produce more shows such as 'Extreme OCD Camp' as this opened up societies eyes to the various forms of the condition and its various victims. OCD doesn't care if you're supposedly 'normal' or not, it can nestle down in the most logical of minds.
Becca xoxo
A little catch up...
Hi everyone,
I apologise for having disappeared from the blog world recently. My life has done a complete 180 yet again, although this time for the better. Despite my OCD having not really improved, about three months ago I decided to begin volunteering at a local college, just to get myself a little socialised again! After all, its not a great sign when your social life consists solely of a one way conversation with Holly Willoughby and Phillip Schofield. So yeah, I began helping out with the careers department which was brilliant. The college is somewhere I have always felt comfortable. My mum works there and has done for the majority of my life, I also studied there and have worked there on and off throughout the years.
This was a big change as it pushed me, but not too much. After encountering a fair few mental breakdowns with regards to my OCD, I now have a much better understanding of my limits. Anyway, this gradually improved my confidence and I began to open up again. I then through complete chance and rather unexpectedly, met someone who also worked at the college. I won't go into too much detail as I like to keep some aspects of my life private but lets just say he's a good one and has been extremely understanding with regards to my condition and my limitations. During this time I also received an invitation to interview for a local marketing firm and luckily got the job. This was a huge deal for me and admittedly probably a little soon considering, however, I am 3 months in now and it's going well. As I still struggle with outside, I often get taxi's into work, however, I have plucked up the courage to ride my bike several times which, although stressful, has also felt great. Thats the worst part of my OCD, I used to walk everywhere and loved being outside and walking at night at University. I feel that is something my OCD has really robbed me of, my freedom. On a much larger note, I have even managed to venture outside for lunch on the odd occasion. This is most definitely at the top of my anxiety scale, walking up to town from my building. The path is tricky and I undoubtedly see things every time which I convince myself are dog poo.
Today, for example, was a particularly harrowing experience. There were countless marks and unidentifiable masses on the floor which I had to avoid with each step. Another thing which I particularly hate about this OCD is that I used to love autumn, it has always been my favourite season, but now its tainted. The fallen golden leaves, when mushed into the pavement resemble poo, so my once ideal is now a nightmare! Anyway, back to today....I ventured out, even bought myself a dress from the charity shop (really pushing the boat out, I know) but hey, it was a little reward to myself for getting myself out of the office and into the poo pit, or outside world....take your pick.
The problem with OCD is it isn't just the momentary fear and anxiety which plagues sufferers, this fades, it's the after effects, the doubting, the what-ifs? Upon returning to the office, it's fair to say I felt anxious and uncomfortable all afternoon and repeatedly wanted to check the soles of my boots. And even now, I know tomorrow I will think the floor's contaminated. But I know this is what I MUST do to challenge myself, otherwise I really will just never leave the house ever again and I'll be back with Phillip and Holly on the sofa once more. It's hard but I'm currently managing to balance a social life with friends and family, a relationship and a job, things which I never thought possible so soon into my recovery, but I'm doing them.
I also really wanted to briefly discuss the BBC3 recent show 'Extreme OCD Camp', in which a select few OCD sufferers set about beginning to conquer their illness and open up about the condition. I found this show to be the most heart-wrenching, sensitive, accurate and honest portrayal on television to date and really cannot express enough how comforting and inspiring I found the program. I have a great deal of respect for all those involved and encourage anyone interested in the condition to watch.
So yeah, I think they're all my updates for now. I just try and stick to the notion, 'take each day'.
Becca xoxo
I apologise for having disappeared from the blog world recently. My life has done a complete 180 yet again, although this time for the better. Despite my OCD having not really improved, about three months ago I decided to begin volunteering at a local college, just to get myself a little socialised again! After all, its not a great sign when your social life consists solely of a one way conversation with Holly Willoughby and Phillip Schofield. So yeah, I began helping out with the careers department which was brilliant. The college is somewhere I have always felt comfortable. My mum works there and has done for the majority of my life, I also studied there and have worked there on and off throughout the years.
This was a big change as it pushed me, but not too much. After encountering a fair few mental breakdowns with regards to my OCD, I now have a much better understanding of my limits. Anyway, this gradually improved my confidence and I began to open up again. I then through complete chance and rather unexpectedly, met someone who also worked at the college. I won't go into too much detail as I like to keep some aspects of my life private but lets just say he's a good one and has been extremely understanding with regards to my condition and my limitations. During this time I also received an invitation to interview for a local marketing firm and luckily got the job. This was a huge deal for me and admittedly probably a little soon considering, however, I am 3 months in now and it's going well. As I still struggle with outside, I often get taxi's into work, however, I have plucked up the courage to ride my bike several times which, although stressful, has also felt great. Thats the worst part of my OCD, I used to walk everywhere and loved being outside and walking at night at University. I feel that is something my OCD has really robbed me of, my freedom. On a much larger note, I have even managed to venture outside for lunch on the odd occasion. This is most definitely at the top of my anxiety scale, walking up to town from my building. The path is tricky and I undoubtedly see things every time which I convince myself are dog poo.
Today, for example, was a particularly harrowing experience. There were countless marks and unidentifiable masses on the floor which I had to avoid with each step. Another thing which I particularly hate about this OCD is that I used to love autumn, it has always been my favourite season, but now its tainted. The fallen golden leaves, when mushed into the pavement resemble poo, so my once ideal is now a nightmare! Anyway, back to today....I ventured out, even bought myself a dress from the charity shop (really pushing the boat out, I know) but hey, it was a little reward to myself for getting myself out of the office and into the poo pit, or outside world....take your pick.
The problem with OCD is it isn't just the momentary fear and anxiety which plagues sufferers, this fades, it's the after effects, the doubting, the what-ifs? Upon returning to the office, it's fair to say I felt anxious and uncomfortable all afternoon and repeatedly wanted to check the soles of my boots. And even now, I know tomorrow I will think the floor's contaminated. But I know this is what I MUST do to challenge myself, otherwise I really will just never leave the house ever again and I'll be back with Phillip and Holly on the sofa once more. It's hard but I'm currently managing to balance a social life with friends and family, a relationship and a job, things which I never thought possible so soon into my recovery, but I'm doing them.
I also really wanted to briefly discuss the BBC3 recent show 'Extreme OCD Camp', in which a select few OCD sufferers set about beginning to conquer their illness and open up about the condition. I found this show to be the most heart-wrenching, sensitive, accurate and honest portrayal on television to date and really cannot express enough how comforting and inspiring I found the program. I have a great deal of respect for all those involved and encourage anyone interested in the condition to watch.
So yeah, I think they're all my updates for now. I just try and stick to the notion, 'take each day'.
Becca xoxo
How did it come to this...?
Morning everyone. Its Bank Holiday Monday and it's SUNNY! Which, if you live in England, will understand how refreshing this is! So since this is my first proper explanatory post, I thought I better just dive right in....(bear with me). So, as I said in my intro post, I suffer with OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) and have done since early childhood. However, only in the past two years has it really taken its toll on my life.
Throughout the years I've encountered various forms of the condition, such as 'Halo' thoughts or 'Purity' thinking, in which you believe your thoughts to be 100% true. For example, 'if I don't turn this page in this book six times the world will end'. Whilst this was distressing it didn't particularly affect my life in a grand sense, these thoughts were fleeting, it just meant I felt a little odd, confused and upset sometimes.
My OCD took a real turn for the worse when I went to University. I was always fairly confident during my time at College and so thought I would love University. However, I begun to experience bouts of depression during my gap year between College and University and would regularly go out drinking. So by the time University came, I wasn't in the best place, mentally. Not to say I didn't enjoy any of it, I did. I made some great friends and enjoyed the freedom. But my anxiety began to increase and in turn, my depression.
Throughout the years I've encountered various forms of the condition, such as 'Halo' thoughts or 'Purity' thinking, in which you believe your thoughts to be 100% true. For example, 'if I don't turn this page in this book six times the world will end'. Whilst this was distressing it didn't particularly affect my life in a grand sense, these thoughts were fleeting, it just meant I felt a little odd, confused and upset sometimes.
As I entered adolescence I noticed myself doubting things I had done, from the extreme, such as if I had hurt anyone whilst I was out, or the more mundane, if I had actually handed in an essay assignment at school. Of course everyone has general worries or concerns but when I would share these with my friends, mine would seem far more extreme.
My OCD took a real turn for the worse when I went to University. I was always fairly confident during my time at College and so thought I would love University. However, I begun to experience bouts of depression during my gap year between College and University and would regularly go out drinking. So by the time University came, I wasn't in the best place, mentally. Not to say I didn't enjoy any of it, I did. I made some great friends and enjoyed the freedom. But my anxiety began to increase and in turn, my depression.
By the second year I was very depressed and felt incredibly alone. I just didn't seem to be able to hold a positive mood for longer than an hour and my moods would be extremely erratic and intense. To avoid this I would often drink which, although a fun distraction, only prolonged the depression in the long run. Unfortunately a rather toxic relationship followed suit which did little to help.
He was extremely manipulative and controlling. I would even go so far as to say he was emotionally abusive. I don't wish to dwell on this too much, although I wanted to mention it in the hope of maybe helping another person going through a similar ordeal. Domestic abuse doesn't have to equal physical abuse, mental abuse is just as dangerous. Anyway, to summarise, the anxiety generated from this relationship, coupled with my already fragile state meant that my OCD resurfaced once again, this time in the form of severe compulsive checking. I spent the next year struggling with University life, a miserable relationship and my OCD.
After I eventually cut all ties with the boy, things then became a little dark and my depression was as rife as ever. I had moved home post University and was working in a dead end job and this is when my OCD began to gradually creep in again. I should explain now that I suffer with contamination OCD. This is probably the most recognised form of the condition and is even often glamourised within the media. However it doesn't mean that I'm a clean or tidy fanatic. In fact, my room is often a right ruddy mess! My obsession is with the notion of going blind as a result of coming into contact with dog faeces (crap, shit, etc). I realise this sounds completely insane, and I agree with you. But I can't help it, it's the nature of the illness. Its the 'what if's'. What if I go blind from contact with dog feaces?
I finally had to give up work, as I was having to bleach my shoes in the staff toilets before entering work after walking from the station. A once pleasant walk had become an extremely stressful scanning mission for dog mess and a series of checks and pauses to question myself. I was also spending an obscene amount of money on Carex soap and Dettol Wipes daily, trying to rid myself of any contamination. I would throw away bags, shoes, coats in fear that they had come into contact with dog faeces. I also noticed that I was becoming increasingly snappy and agitated. After months of this routine I was finally signed off from work with the hope of returning but I never did. I spent the next few months having a rather relaxed form of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) to which I found pretty useless and nowhere near intense enough for the extent to which I was suffering. However some time went and I felt a little better and a little more capable so when a job offer came along in London, I took it. In hindsight it probably wasn't the best idea but I had longed to live in London all my life and the majority of my friends lived there. So in the space of a week I had moved up to the East End and was working in Piccadilly.
The next three months were probably the darkest and most distressing months of my entire life. My OCD reared its ugly head once more and I became a recluse. Functioning only at work to keep up appearances but as soon as I left at 6pm I retreated back into my illness. I would spend £20 a day on cleaning products and would go through 2-3 bottles of Carex soap a day after bleaching my shoes upon returning home. I didn't see my friends, I avoided all calls, I was an absolute ghost of myself. One day, three months after I had begun my life in London, I decided I couldn't take anymore. I had finished work late and was commuting back home to Portsmouth by this point. Whilst walking to the tube I had noticed some dog mess and convinced myself I had trodden in it. I then embarked on my practically daily mission of buying a new pair or black slip on shoes to change into on the train. Here I was, marching up and down Oxford Street at 8.30pm at night. It was dark, Christmas shoppers were everywhere. I was pushed and shoved and couldn't see the pavement and that's when I just broke down. I arrived home late that night and confessed to my parents how difficult everything had become and I could no longer cope. They seemed relieved to be honest. The next day I called work and terminated my position. I was devastated, I loved my job, it was the only reason I had stuck it out there so long.
The next month was awful. I had become a complete shadow of my former self. I was suicidal and unresponsive. The medication I was on was not agreeing with me and I became rather aggressive (completely out of character). My parents were extremely concerned and so called in a doctor. It was then that I was admitted to 'Hospital at Home'. A mental health facility in which patients are visited at home by a psychologist and mental health nurse or support worker. Slowly but surely I began to improve. My medication was switched and this instantly helped. I received intensive therapy for 12 weeks and did come a long way. However, due to funding this stopped and for the past 4 months I have been visited one a week by a mental health nurse. And here we are..at the present day!
I've still got an incredibly long way to go and am on the waiting list for proper psychological help again, until then I'm sort of in a limbo where I'm just waiting for help. I am stuck inside most days as outside is a pretty scary place for me at the moment. Some days are harder than others but I try and stay positive. I have very supportive friends and family who are there for me and finally understand the condition and as a result, me. I guess the point of this blog was to share with you just how harrowing his illness is. To those who have never had to encounter OCD I envy you. And to the media who so often mock the condition, I resent you, for misrepresenting an illness which destroys lives. But we have to stay positive and I can honestly say I have managed to sustain my sense of humour throughout all of this. I guess you have to, because when you're sat there, wiping a pack of Dettol wipes WITH a Dettol wipe, you have to think to yourself
'WOW.....'
A Little Intro...
Hi there. I'm Becca and welcome to my blog 'BeccaEtcetera'. I decided to start up this blog as a way of sharing my experiences with others, including my struggle with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. However, this condition doesn't define me, which is why I have also decided to feature the odd blog post on fashion and beauty finds, as well as general thoughts. I hope I can help others struggling with a similar situation and also provide a somewhat wry, honest approach to the condition.
I hope you enjoy reading :)
Becca xoxox
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