So You Call Yourself An Environmentalist

Yes I do in fact. I consider myself an environmentalist. The fact that I wash my hands a lot does not discount that I love the environment and work to protect it. Washing compulsively does not negate the fact that I recycle, or compost, or buy products that are less processed. I am part of my university's environmental club, where people talk constantly about wasting water (taking shorter showers, buying new toilets that use less water, etc), and I constantly feel like a hypocrite because I cannot prevent myself from over-washing. People think it's mind over matter. But it really can't be boiled down that far, especially because my mind is the problem. People say to me "if you just put your mind to it, you won't have to perform your rituals." If only, if only.

I struggle a lot with trying to explain myself to people. Or to ignore the sometimes odd looks I receive. How do you explain something that seems irrational to even me?

When Good Enough Isn't Enough

Some people don't get that good enough isn't enough. If it's not one hundred percent, it's zero percent. I don't even get it. But my OCD insists that is how it should be. That it's how is must be. Common sense be damned. If it takes twenty-four tries to wash my hands right, then it takes twenty-four times to wash my hands right.

And it's frustrating. I'm not sure which part is more frustrating. The fact that my mind feels the need for me to repeat these rituals, or the fact that it takes me twenty-four tries to do a task as simple as washing my hands. It's not rocket science. There are even signs in many bathrooms that explain how you should do it (wet your hands, lather on some soap, scrub for approximately twenty seconds, then rinse, and dry). It sounds pretty simple. I'm a moderately educated, relatively sophisticated, young woman, and yet a task like such can reduce me to tears, to a panic that grips my body and makes me act irrationally.

Sometimes I wonder how I will survive college. Sometimes it feels impossible, and other times I feel like I'm on top of the world - nothing can touch me, college is awesome, I'm the bee's knees (or whatever). The times that feel impossible are when I want to crawl into my bed and shut out all noise and visual stimulation. It's a healthy hour to hour fluctuation. I can usually only hope that my perfectionistic compulsions help propel me forward academically, and if not - I'm sure I'll find my passion in something.

Defining "Normal"

I thought to start this post I would look up the definition of 'normal' in the dictionary (not a real dictionary, the kind we kids use: the Internet). I immediately noticed upon typing 'definition of normal' into my Google search, that more than one definition appeared. How abnormal. I'll go with the definition "the usual, average, or typical state." I've noticed that people use the word normal to mean the "right" way of being. I've heard many a person say "But they seemed so normal" when talking about a wide range of attributes. Perhaps they just found out that the most popular girl in school committed suicide, or the star football player is gay, but in some way these new discoveries shift people from being 'normal' to being 'different' or 'abnormal' or 'wrong.'

We've all heard some person say "but if we're all unique, aren't we all actually not unique?" It's true. No one. I repeat. No one. Is 'normal.' Or you could interpret that by saying, everyone is normal. In fact, I think I like that better. Normal should be described based on each individual. For me normal is washing my hands in every sink after each bathroom encounter. For some, normal may be retracing their steps to make sure no catastrophic events happened because of them. For others, normal is lining their clothes up by alphabetic order based on the brand. It doesn't matter what it is for you, because it is normal.

In therapy I have been spending a lot of time discussing how to approach decreasing my obsessions and compulsions. We haven't spent much time trying to do this. Most of our time has been spent dealing with other issues that appeared more important. However, recently we have concluded that by eliminating the anxiety that surrounds my OCD and my life, the other issues we've been discussing will decrease as well. But I'm scared. I hope that doesn't sound dumb. Because I'm terrified. Who will I be if I'm not exactly who I am now? Why is it bad that I do what I do? I can't be sure I'll be the same person if I work to eliminate my rituals. That terrifies me, for the same reason people are scared to starting psychiatric drugs: they don't want their essence to change. And that, in and of itself, is completely normal. Nobody wants to jeopardize their identity.

Post Number One

First post in my first blog. There is a lot of pressure to get it right, but I'll try to remain focused on the reason I have decided to create this blog, not the fact that I will be publishing for the entire world to see. Oh crap, now I'm nervous all over again.

Anyway. This blog is called "I have OCD, I'm not OCD." I think the title is quite accurate on two levels. First, in the grammatically correct sense. People always are saying "oh my god, I'm so OCD." Sorry folks, it doesn't work that way. Grammar rules require that you say "I have OCD" not "I am OCD." In another sense, having OCD does not define who I am, nor does it define who anyone is. It is just a facet of our personalities, nothing more! As Eleanor Roosevelt correctly stated "Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent." True life. Stigmatizing yourself with labels is bullshit!

I've decided to create this blog to connect with other people who have OCD, and to tell a little bit of my story, and give some perspective to other people going through similar things. I am a college student, a friend, a daughter, and also someone who struggles with OCD.