Thursday 27 February 2014
Monday 24 February 2014
A Little Reminder...
Hey Guys,
For those of you that follow me on Twitter, you'll already have seen a little snippet of this but a couple of weeks ago I broke my ink virginity...
Tattoos had never really interested me, I had often thought that they would look nice on certain people..I just wasn't one of those people : / However, after seeing the temporary tattoos of the question mark, featured on BBC3's Extreme OCD Camp series, I started to seriously consider something similar. I liked the thought of having a little reminder, to challenge the OCD when I was really struggling or having a difficult moment.
After some thought I realised that OCD is all about the 'What if's?'. What if I hurt someone whilst I'm out? What if I trod in dog feaces whilst walking home and go blind? What if I one day act on my intrusive thoughts? WHAT IF WHAT IF WHAT IF...you get the gist! So that's what I decided on, to have 'What if...' written on the inside of my left wrist. That way it's somewhere rather concealed, I can even cover with a watch or bangle should I need to. However, it's accessible enough to notice when say, I'm having a frantic hand washing session, or picking up my cousins baby. It's there, FOREVER.
That was probably the only reason I was hesitant, the forever-ness of a tattoo. But I believe that acceptance is a huge part of OCD. Not accepting the thoughts as such, because let's face it, they're horrific at the best of times. But more of an acceptance of thoughts in general, accepting that they are JUST thoughts, nothing more. I think it's also about accepting yourself for who you are, OCD has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember and although I continue to fight it in every single way, every day, I have come to accept it to some extent. Whilst I dream of a life devoid of OCD, I also understand that it's about living my life the best way I can, it's about managing.
So yes, hopefully this little etching will continue to encourage me to challenge the thoughts and live my life in a way consistent with MY goals and values, not the OCD's.
For those of you that follow me on Twitter, you'll already have seen a little snippet of this but a couple of weeks ago I broke my ink virginity...
Tattoos had never really interested me, I had often thought that they would look nice on certain people..I just wasn't one of those people : / However, after seeing the temporary tattoos of the question mark, featured on BBC3's Extreme OCD Camp series, I started to seriously consider something similar. I liked the thought of having a little reminder, to challenge the OCD when I was really struggling or having a difficult moment.
After some thought I realised that OCD is all about the 'What if's?'. What if I hurt someone whilst I'm out? What if I trod in dog feaces whilst walking home and go blind? What if I one day act on my intrusive thoughts? WHAT IF WHAT IF WHAT IF...you get the gist! So that's what I decided on, to have 'What if...' written on the inside of my left wrist. That way it's somewhere rather concealed, I can even cover with a watch or bangle should I need to. However, it's accessible enough to notice when say, I'm having a frantic hand washing session, or picking up my cousins baby. It's there, FOREVER.
That was probably the only reason I was hesitant, the forever-ness of a tattoo. But I believe that acceptance is a huge part of OCD. Not accepting the thoughts as such, because let's face it, they're horrific at the best of times. But more of an acceptance of thoughts in general, accepting that they are JUST thoughts, nothing more. I think it's also about accepting yourself for who you are, OCD has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember and although I continue to fight it in every single way, every day, I have come to accept it to some extent. Whilst I dream of a life devoid of OCD, I also understand that it's about living my life the best way I can, it's about managing.
So yes, hopefully this little etching will continue to encourage me to challenge the thoughts and live my life in a way consistent with MY goals and values, not the OCD's.
Thanks for reading.
Becca xoxo
A Fond Farewell...
Hi Guys,
Last week I said goodbye to my psychologist, Kirtsy. As I'm sure all you other OCD'ers can relate to, this was something I had dreaded for a long while. Over the past couple of years I have been met with a vast array of doctors, psychologists, psychiatrists and nurses, not all of which have been particularly positive encounters. Concequently, when I was first introduced to Kirsty 12(ish) weeks ago, whilst she seemed perfectly lovely, I wasn't entirely convinced. How wrong I was.
Not only was Kirsty kind, patient and reassuring. She was also fun, relatable and made me feel completely at ease. This is absolutely vital with regards to therapy; after all, it is here you should feel you can say anything, without judgement or rejection.
I won't go into too much detail as therapy is something personal to everyone, however, I can say that throughout my time with Kirsty I came on leaps and bounds and will always be grateful for the work we did together.
One particular revelation I shared with her (which I'm not yet brave enough to do so publicly yet) was particularly difficult for me and is a type of OCD with which I've suffered since the age of 12. It's something which I've suppressed deeply for many years and only felt confident enough to share after reading Emily's blog http://dreamstobeanxietyfree.wordpress.com earlier this year. It was after seeing how brave Emily had been to discuss such issues, that I felt I wanted to finally open up about a secret I had hidden for half my life, from everyone in my life. So to her, I can't say thank you enough.
However, the point of this post was to share with you something which Kirsty said during our final goodbyes, which really did mean the world to me. 'You'll make a great Mum one day'. That was enough for me and it's fair to say copious amounts of tears followed! But to have someone who I had only known a short while, completely shatter a thought which has plagued me for years, meant so much I can't even describe.
So although my time with Kirsty is now over and whilst I know I have a long way to go, it's nice to know that others have faith in your character, especially when OCD has caused you to doubt yourself for so long.
Thanks for reading.
Becca xoxo
Heel Today, Gone Tomorrow...
Hi everyone, so it's been a while...a long while. Life has been pretty hectic as usual and I have lots to talk about with you all (JOY!).
However, I don't want my first post in months to just be a massive catch-up drone so, I wanted to share a funny little OCD incident which occurred a couple of weeks ago...
So there I was, I had worked up enough courage to walk up into Havant on my lunch break. Things had gone pretty well, I'd managed to pick up a couple of oh-so-healthy Gregg's pasties and a Kate Moss lipstick. However, on my way back to the office, I noticed my left shoe was making a rather odd sound...then to my absolute dismay the sodding heel came off! Now, to the average Joe, this would be nothing more than a mere inconvenience; however, to the OCD ridden mind (more specifically dog feaces contamination fear), this was somewhat of a DISASTER.
There I was, a good 100m from my office, stranded outside the hairdressers, pasties in hand and a left leg markedly lower than its counterpart. I stood there motionless for a good few moments, as the old familiar wave of fear encroached me. In my head I was cursing and mentally sweating, before realising that I was not yet brave enough to pick the heel up; so I kicked it. Yep fellow OCD'ers, you heard me, I kicked the bloody thing down the entire length of South Street. I phoned my Mum to alleviate some of the embarrassment I felt. A problem shared is a problem halved after all.....hmm, still not sure if that applies to OCD : /
Anyway, after a good few minutes kicking my heel along the cobbles and cracks, whilst all the time still avoiding any suspicious stains on the ground, I made it back to work. Although this came with it's own array of problems as I was met with the stairs leading up to the front door. Luckily(?), one of my colleagues arrived shortly after and whilst I felt ridiculous, the fear overcame me and I explained to her the situation as best I could and asked if she could please pick up my heel and put it in a carrier bag. I have to say the complete humiliation and uselessness I felt suddenly jolted my mind and I did feel a sense of disappointment that I hadn't managed to challenge the OCD to the extent where I could actually pick up the heel myself.
However, once back upstairs in the office, I had an amazing realisation, a realisation that was met due to my boss. After relaying my tale of terror to him, he simply replied 'Mate, at least you can laugh about it, you couldn't have done that a few months back'. And he was right, I couldn't, I wouldn't have. I would have been in a state of shock and upset, probably still stood outside the hairdressers, frozen in fear, staring at that sodding heel.
So yes, whilst I may not have yet been able to actually pick up the heel myself. I was able to at least see the funny side and not let it ruin my day, which is half the battle really, isn't it?
Thanks for reading.
Becca xoxo
However, I don't want my first post in months to just be a massive catch-up drone so, I wanted to share a funny little OCD incident which occurred a couple of weeks ago...
So there I was, I had worked up enough courage to walk up into Havant on my lunch break. Things had gone pretty well, I'd managed to pick up a couple of oh-so-healthy Gregg's pasties and a Kate Moss lipstick. However, on my way back to the office, I noticed my left shoe was making a rather odd sound...then to my absolute dismay the sodding heel came off! Now, to the average Joe, this would be nothing more than a mere inconvenience; however, to the OCD ridden mind (more specifically dog feaces contamination fear), this was somewhat of a DISASTER.
There I was, a good 100m from my office, stranded outside the hairdressers, pasties in hand and a left leg markedly lower than its counterpart. I stood there motionless for a good few moments, as the old familiar wave of fear encroached me. In my head I was cursing and mentally sweating, before realising that I was not yet brave enough to pick the heel up; so I kicked it. Yep fellow OCD'ers, you heard me, I kicked the bloody thing down the entire length of South Street. I phoned my Mum to alleviate some of the embarrassment I felt. A problem shared is a problem halved after all.....hmm, still not sure if that applies to OCD : /
Anyway, after a good few minutes kicking my heel along the cobbles and cracks, whilst all the time still avoiding any suspicious stains on the ground, I made it back to work. Although this came with it's own array of problems as I was met with the stairs leading up to the front door. Luckily(?), one of my colleagues arrived shortly after and whilst I felt ridiculous, the fear overcame me and I explained to her the situation as best I could and asked if she could please pick up my heel and put it in a carrier bag. I have to say the complete humiliation and uselessness I felt suddenly jolted my mind and I did feel a sense of disappointment that I hadn't managed to challenge the OCD to the extent where I could actually pick up the heel myself.
However, once back upstairs in the office, I had an amazing realisation, a realisation that was met due to my boss. After relaying my tale of terror to him, he simply replied 'Mate, at least you can laugh about it, you couldn't have done that a few months back'. And he was right, I couldn't, I wouldn't have. I would have been in a state of shock and upset, probably still stood outside the hairdressers, frozen in fear, staring at that sodding heel.
So yes, whilst I may not have yet been able to actually pick up the heel myself. I was able to at least see the funny side and not let it ruin my day, which is half the battle really, isn't it?
Thanks for reading.
Becca xoxo
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