A lunchtime to forget

It’s about 10 weeks since I left the Anxiety Disorders Residential Unit at Bethlem Royal Hospital. Since leaving it’s fair to say I’ve had some ups and downs. During follow up conversations with my therapist she’s described my post leaving recovery as a ‘slow burn’, but a burn nonetheless. I’ve been back at work around 8 weeks and have been trying to go out every day at lunch, I’ve obviously encountered the odd trigger here and there but nothing really to completely throw me. Today however was something else.

It started off fairly well, but soon it was trigger after trigger after trigger and I’m not talking about some little terror inducing surprises, these were big fucking triggers. The big monster under your bed. The giant spider in the bath sort of triggers. I’m currently sat at my desk writing this, trying to hold it together; my heart is racing, my eyes watering and my cheeks burning. I want to run away but at the same time I feel like I can’t move. I’m going over every detail of every exposure, doubting my actions and wanting to engage in all of my cleaning rituals. I feel disappointed that I let the OCD win at times but strong for still being here. It’s about owning the little victories after all.

But still, today has made me realise that I still have so much to overcome and that in reality it’s only going to get harder as I attempt to challenge the more ingrained safety behaviours. It’s a long road ahead and whilst exhausted I can honestly say I want to keep going. I want to be able to have a child and feel able to pick up something they’ve dropped on the pavement whilst out for a stroll, even if there are brown marks there. I want to be able to change my child’s nappy whilst having POCD thoughts and keep moving forward, not asking for reassurance from my partner. I want to be free of this horrendous condition and most of all I want my family and future child to be free of it.