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.

OCD: The Selfish Side-Effects

If someone were to ask me what I felt was the most challenging and upsetting part of living with OCD, I'm pretty certain it would be the selfish (albeit often unintentional) aspect of the disorder. More specifically, the prevention of me being able to take into account the thoughts and/or feelings of others, particularly when I'm having a difficult time in coping with the day to day safety behaviours or ebb and flow of emotions and anxiety. 

I think perhaps the most poignant of examples of this is when my boyfriend returned home after attending his Nan's funeral last month. The 'real me' wanted to wrap my arms around him as he came through the door and preceded to walk towards me, but the OCD side of me couldn’t shake the feeling that he was contaminated and may have come into contact with a dog whilst outside. 

Unfortunately on this occasion it was the later which won and I've honestly never felt more frustrated, upset and lonely as a result. This is someone who means the world to me and yet because of a mere malfunctioning of neurons in the brain I was unable to show him the compassion and love he so deserved that afternoon. It was then that I realised I couldn’t let this ever happen again. Now I’m not saying this will be easy, as I'm almost certain that if confronted with a similar situation at this point I would do the same, however, what haschanged is my utter determination to resist the urge to run and hide. Of course this is a determination I strive to achieve each day, however this one moment affected me in ways I hadn’t experienced prior and was a complete 180 of my 'true self'. 

I don't really have much else to say, other than if you're faced with a similar issue, please don't punish yourself like I did. Instead talk with your loved one and explain to them that you’re not forsaking their feelings for your fears. However most importantly of all try, try and try some more because sometimes that’s all you can do. It won't be easy and even if you have to shower for an hour after, just hug them because touch is a very special thing in this world and I can guarantee it will bring you out of your thoughts and into the present. No matter how terrifying that may be, it will be worth it. 

Thanks for reading,

Becca

A Bit of 'Me' Time

Hey Guys,

I hope you're all doing well. I'm sorry for my lack of blogging recently-I'd love to say I've been off galavanting around having the time of my life-but sadly this isn't the case. I've been finding things incredibly stressful and draining recently. Work for starters has just been beyond manic and I'm due to take on yet more responsibility soon, which is a little daunting. On top of that it's the usual balancing act of family, friends and relationship...oh and that little thing OCD. For those of you who have OCD, I'm sure you'll have an understanding of how utterly exhausting it can be. Take the usual daily stresses, money, work, marriage and add another huge pile of crap on top-that crap is OCD.

I also encountered a rather large setback in the form of Amsterdam in August...BOY OH BOY was that a tricky 5 days....my anxiety was crippling, my relationship barely survived and my brain just wanted to hide away for eternity. Tears were had and I admittedly spent the remainder of my annual leave hiding  from the world in my bedroom, before retuning to the stress pit that is work. All in all it was a very difficult trip, there were good parts, don't get me wrong but I think it was a case of too much too soon and for too long. I will do a video on this, I did do one when I got back but the sound mucked up...Winner.

Anyway...back to OCD.....

Just when I have my OCD under control, there it pops up, disguised as something different, making it hard for me to recognise and as a result, question myself. Sometimes it will be contamination, other times intrusive thoughts and often checking. It's a nice little switch between harrowing thoughts, annoying compulsions and an exhausted mind.

I have also recently reduced my medication which may account for my slightly 'off' mood. Depression is a funny thing, it creeps up oh so cautiously and then BAM, without any real warning signs you're in it, and at that point, its incredibly difficult to see a way out. I try and focus on the things in my life which are wonderful; my family, boyfriend and friends but depression and ocd don't really take these things into account. No matter how good everything seems, my mind just detaches from reality and I go venturing into the forest of my mind, unsure of which way to go....I could really do with a trail map for my head....a nice little layout so I know which way to turn for HAPPINESS.

Right, so this was a pretty pointless blogpost but I just wanted to say, to any of you feeling a little deflated, stressed, down or just fed up, IT'S OKAY. We all have those days, weeks, even months, but it's important not to ignore those feelings and to talk to someone if you're really struggling.

Things that make me happy:

Films - of any kind really.
Reading.
Painting my nails.
It's Friday tomorrow.
My bed.

What makes YOU happy?
Make a list and try and focus on these things....if all fails eat copies amounts of jelly beans.

Thanks
Becca xoxo

Exposure Challenge-A Morning at the Beach

Hi Guys,

SO...today was quite a weird day. I stayed at my boyfriend Dan's last night, as I'm off work this week. However, lovely as it was, it meant getting up at 6.45am so he could drop me back before he went off to work. On the ride home I sat staring out at the utterly GORGEOUS day outside,  in the UK our sunny warm days are seriously numbered, especially in March! So, I threw caution to the wind and decided that today would be the day I take a long country walk/cycle ride.

I had planned to do it all week but both OCD fear and pyjamas were keeping me inside but today I decided I had procrastinated enough! So upon arriving home I quickly donned a bit of makeup, brushed my hair and grabbed my backpack. Before my bed had a chance to seduce me, I had jumped on my bike and was hurtling down the road!

It's a good 15/20 minute ride down to Langstone, however, once I get out of the traffic near my house, it's just a long, quiet country road down to the shore; HEAVEN.

I stopped quite a few times on the way to take some photo's. It was just such a beautiful day, everything was so peaceful which gave me an inner sense of calm; something much needed when you're about to embark on an exposure task!

I arrived at the shore, parked up my bike and sat on a bench. I felt extremely uncomfortable and admittedly did scan a little before sitting down. But once I did....WOW. I haven't been able to do that in YEARS. Park up my bike, sit down amongst a muddy floor, somewhat questionably stained bench and just enjoy the view without obsessing about what that stain was or if I had touched it. Don't get me wrong, those thoughts were running around my mind faster than Usain Bolt...but I was able to just let them come..... and inevitably GO.

With the first hurdle over of actually leaving the house and making it down here, I decided to text my Mum, Dad and Dan, just to let them know how I was getting on. At which point the cutest yet grubbiest shaggy chocolate spaniel bounded out of nowhere and jumped all over me...and I mean ALL OVER. He was on my lap, paws in hair, the works. Needless to say I laughed it off to the owner, who was nothing but apologetic but inside I was screaming. I suddenly felt extremely overwhelmed and almost packed it in and went off home. But then I started thinking, NO. Keep going. It's not going to harm you, he's just a dog, dogs have germs, people have germs, he's not smothered in poo (HOPEFULLY). There were some questionable stains on my jeans post attack, but I decided to venture on regardless and walk up along the beach.

I saw dog poo within the first few minutes, my heart started racing as I steered my bike around. I looked back once as a little reassurance check which annoyed me but I couldn't be too hard on myself given what I was doing after so many years of avoidance. I carried on up the beach, again stopping every now and then to take photos and vlog. I thought it would be good to have a live record of the experience to reflect on later, as proof that I hadn't gone blind and nothing too awful happened!

As much as the anxiety was crippling my enjoyment slightly, I DID enjoy myself. I love Langstone harbour and always have done. It's just so quiet and serene and reminded me of why I love where I live so much. Anyway, back to exposure, I decided to keep going a little way further, I saw a woman with her dog and decided to take some snaps as the dog was so energetic and funny to watch. I then sat down again on a bench, once again having a quick scan but nothing too detrimental to the exposure. Here, I did my final vlog entry before making my way home.

I decided to go a different route home, so as to keep up with the unfamiliarity and continue to challenge myself. It was VERY MUDDY. I did get a bit stressed but it was also quite funny, I nearly lost my bike chain about 6 times on the terrain. I then thought I would go and see my Grandad at the cemetery, I hadn't been for years and just wanted to say 'Hi' and give him a bit of an update. I know how much my Mum misses him so I wanted to pay him a visit and give him her love.

It was then that I started to make my way home. I was exhausted! Both mentally and physically, I was muddy and wanted nothing more than to disinfect my entire body. But I came home and instead decided to sort some of my shoes out and have a nice relaxing bath afterwards, but not immediately! I sat with the anxiety for a little while and whilst I admittedly dettol wiped my phone, which again was a bit frustrating, I had to remember what I had just done and how HUGE that was. I had gone outside and ENJOYED it.

I felt a sense of freedom for the first time in years...and a little more myself again...

Here are some pictures of my day :)

Thank you for reading.

Becca xoxo

OCD and Reassurance

I know I know...BUT

Hey Guys,

Today is a kind of partner to my video on Reassurance. Since I'm still new to the whole video thing and don't want to do a word-for-word write script for fear of losing sincerity, I inevitably miss out things.

A few words I missed in this video, when describing reassurance with regards to OCD, were DOUBT and AVOIDANCE.

Whilst I touched on doubt, only using the word trust instead to describe my lack of self-belief, I completely avoided...avoidance! Avoidance and reassurance, without question go hand in hand. I use reassurance from others as a way of avoiding sitting with the anxiety. When I walk down the street and see poo, rather than spend the rest of the day wondering if I trod in it, I'm going to ask my Mum, or a friend, whoever I'm with,  'I know I didn't....BUT....did I?' With their one word response 'No', I instantly feel alleviated of any anxiety and whilst this relief may only be temporary, it sure beats me fighting the thoughts of contamination and blindness racing around my mind.

But this isn't good. Reassurance may seem like a quick fix but it's just that, a quick fix which will only fuel the long term belief and in turn, keep you coming back for more. So next time, when you've done something or seen something or had an intrusive thought and are ready to ask someone for a reassuring word...just try sitting with that 'unknown' and anxiety for a few minutes...I can guarantee it will only help in the long run.

Thanks for reading.

Becca
xoxo

Setbacks and OCD

Hi Guys,

Today I wanted to talk about setbacks and OCD. I recently received some bad news in my life.It was rather upsetting and as a result I'm now feeling quite a bit of stress and disappointment. In the past I have unintentionally turned to my OCD in times of crisis, as a way of redeeming a sense of control I guess? Who knows... However, this time I refuse to use my OCD as a coping mechanism. Don't get me wrong, its not as if I've purposefully sought refuge in my illness, it's more of a fallback or a knee-jerk reaction to my emotions.

I guess it goes a little something like this...

Feeling down or stressed=OCD behaviours become more dominant.

Having spoken with some of you, I think it's a fairly common issue. When thinking back across the years, I can definitely identify certain times in my life in which my OCD was more prevalent. For example,during a particularly troubling relationship, throughout my time at University and during bouts of depression, which in turn, fuelled the OCD even more.

The point of this post was basically to say that it's okay to feel when something bad happens in your life. You wouldn't be human if you didn't feel a sense of sorrow or disappointment, right? The point I wanted to make was that it's fine to feel, but know when this feeling is feeding into other areas of you mind, or life. For me, it's my OCD. I hide behind my illness and use it as an excuse to label everything in my life as negative. I have to remember that this recent bad news is a mere setback, it doesn't tarnish the rest of my life, it is an isolated event which I will amend, not sink into.

I think it's important to recognise that sometimes things in life go a bit off track. No one is particularly to blame, it's just life. But do try to not let this bring you down and don't hide within your illness, whether its OCD, and eating disorder or depression. Instead, choose to see all the positives, whether it be your family, friends, a shopping trip, a holiday, or even just an evening in watching your favourite show on Netflix with a pack of cookies.

Falling further into your illness won't rectify the situation, it will simply allow you to avoid the pain you're naturally entitled to feel via cleaning or hooking into intrusive thoughts. So let's try and  focus on the positives in life a little more and face setbacks HEAD ON.

Thanks for reading
Becca xoxo

My OCD Story

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.

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

Mid-week Musings...

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

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

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

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

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.

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