Recently, my friend Tina at the Bringing Along OCD blog wrote about “reading OCD” – which she had in an earlier post described this way:
Imagine opening up a book to begin reading it. Chapter one. You read a paragraph. Then you reread it. Then you move to the second paragraph, but you realize that you may not have read the first paragraph well enough. So you go back and read paragraph one again. Then you read and reread paragraph two several times. You finally make it to the end of the page, and in turning the page, you think, “I’ve read page one adequately.”
But you can’t be sure. Did you understand everything you read? Will you remember it?So you reread page one, reading and rereading the paragraphs again. After an hour of being on page one, you get tired and decide to put down the book. You’ll get through the book someday. It’s only the third time you’ve tried to read chapter one.
“Stella,” I said, reaching out and touching her hand.
She looked at me. “What’s up?”
“I think it’s wrong to write my poems.”
She frowned. “What.” It was an accusation, not a question.
I tried to explain my logic. “So I write about feeling scared about hell, for example, okay? And then other people read about it, and I’m causing them to sin.”
“Neely, the Bible talks about hell.” The brown eyes of Stella Bay-Blake were flashing—and looking dangerously similar to Trapper’s.
“There is that,” I said, pausing to think it through. Maybe Christ’s brief mentions of hell didn’t warrant people’s actual dwelling on it, whereas a poem would. In that case, I’d still be out of line. “I don’t know.”
“Neely, there is rape in the Bible. And adultery. And murder.”
“But maybe not really in a way so that the reader dwells on those things, you know?”
“No,” she said. She sounded angry, and with her curls falling forward into her face, she looked violent, like a lion. “This is the one way that you can healthily process your stupid OCD.”
“Maybe I could try to dwell on lovely things. Write about lovely things.”
“Yeah,” she said sarcastically. “You can write ‘Walking on a Rainbow to the King: Reprise.’ Because what I want to read are a hundred pages about sunshine and puppies.”
“Not sunshine and puppies, not necessarily,” I said. “But things like … like faith and confidence.” Father God, I love You.
“You have OCD,” she reminded me, “and you are going to write convincing poems about confidence?” She had a point. “My gosh, I will really blow a nut if you quit writing. I’m the writer who doesn’t write!”
But we sat in silence at the tiny table, my closed journal a symbol of all my failure.
OCD. Is. A. Thief. It will steal whatever you love best. It will warp your mind into believing things that are so far from the truth. It is a liar. I hate the bondage it keeps so many people in. I am so glad to no longer listen to and believe all those lies.
Glad you no longer buy into OCD’s lies and are able write. We all deserve to be able to pursue what we love!
Thanks Janet! I’m grateful every single day!
What a beautiful passage you wrote, Jackie, and how well it captures what OCD is like. OCD is truly a thief, and it does try to take what we love most. It affects my writing sometimes, too. Thank you for using my blog post as an example.
I remember when every few months my obsession would change … and it was difficult EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. It always went for the jugular … whatever was most important in that moment. What an ugly, ugly disorder!
I was so fascinated to read your “reading OCD” post, Tina, and this is immediately what it made me think of. Glad we are in this OCD blogging thing together.
I’m a translator, and OCD when it was at its worst took away my passion for translation. It made me leave an MA course in Translation I had dreamed to attend for years! I felt very stressed and under so much pressure at the time. Now that I’m feeling better I realized that OCD is a huge liar, that I’ve always loved translation and I always will.
Ilary
Ugh, I hate it so much!!!! I hate that it stole that from you! Did you get the chance to take it at a later time?
Actually, I changed major and decided to study Foreign Languages for Business at the same university where I got my Bachelor’s Degree. The other course I wrote about was in another town, everything was so different and I was more stressed than before.
Hi.
I’ve been following your blog for awhile, mostly for your posts on OCD (which are excellent, BTW). I debated for a long time whether to even leave a reply here, but in the end I decided I had to. Because… well, you GET it, if you know what I’m saying. It seems that so, so many people have problems with cleaning, washing, Harm OCD, Scrupulosity, ROCD, and the like, each horrendous in their own ways, but I’ve talked to only a couple of people elsewhere on the internet where their OCD has been similar to mine, namely that it mainly targets the THINGS that we love or enjoy, not so much our health, salvation, or loved ones.
For me, it not only tries to steal my writing and my art, but also the stories that have made a deep impact on me over the years, from books, music, or movies or the like (a couple times it even went for my friends, saying that God didn’t want me to be friends with them anymore, but I was able to nip that one in the bud soon enough that it hasn’t really been a problem since then). I mean, I only want to please God in everything I do, but the OCD always makes it seem like the things I love to do and bring me joy are sinful, evil, or not pleasing to God at all. It’s so insidious about it, too: “the thing’s an idol to you, so you should get rid of it; it makes you sin, so obviously you shouldn’t do it; God just doesn’t like it; there’s something wrong with it so you shouldn’t like it; look, here’s a “sign” that says God is closing the door, and He doesn’t want you to do/like this anymore; you’re not doing God’s best/will; you’re not REALLY fully submitted to God, or else this wouldn’t bother you and you wouldn’t feel anxious, so you MUST be wrong and sinful, etc, etc.” On and on it goes, always changing, never giving me any peace, nearly always catching me off guard with its lies. It doesn’t matter if it’s tried it before and it’s always been a lie; THIS time, it’s “true.” Until it’s proven false, of course, but then it tries the same spiel a few minutes later, just with a slightly different twist.
It’s so hard to really, truly enjoy anything anymore; I always feel like I’m doing something wrong, and even my moments of real joy and happiness are fleeting. :’( I just wish there was SOMETHING I could do to make my brain know when something is really an issue or not. The anxiety just always feels so REAL, and it blindsides me. Every. Single. Time.
But I know you get this, which is why this post was so incredibly helpful for me. I read your book, and I thank you so much for writing it (even if it actually spiked me a couple times :p). And if I know people like you have beaten this… then maybe there’s hope for me, too. So… thank you. From the bottom of my heart. <3
Best wishes, and apologies for the long comment,
Nonny
Hi Nonny,
Oh my goodness, thank you for leaving a comment! I COMPLETELY know what you’re talking about … and I hate that OCD does that. I met with a 9-year-old obsessive-compulsive today and told her, “The two biggest things OCD is are these: a liar and a thief.” And it’s so true. It tells us lies and then steals enjoyment from us, and I HATE IT.
It’s so conniving, the way it targets whatever is most important to us at the time. So ugly.
I can remember going through EXACTLY what you’re going through right now– it felt like every single direction I turned, no matter what I was doing, I was displeasing God. Writing, having a crush on the boy I liked, even my friends (yes, it MAJORLY targeted one of my friendships– a talk therapist introduced the idea that I shouldn’t “burden” my best friend with my issues because she was younger, and for a time, I thought it was wrong of me to share my heart with my best friend. It was so horrendous. It’s like it strips you of what you love and then strips you of even someone to talk to about it.)
For a while, it even made me lose my grasp on reality (which I’m sure you’ll remember from my story– Neely’s story mimics mine in a lot of ways, although she has a better love life! ha!). Just when I would think that there was NOTHING LEFT for it to steal, it would go one step further than I could have ever imagined and take even MORE.
There is help. If you can find a great cognitive-behavioral therapist, you can experience freedom again! In just 12 weeks, God used CBT to release me from my prison. I hope you’ll seek someone out and ask specifically for exposure and response prevention therapy.
Keep in touch, Nonny. I’d like to encourage you however I can!
And thank you for responding so fast.
I appreciate it.
Don’t I know it. And of course, it’s not enough to do that; it has to tell us (at least, it tells me) that there’s something WRONG with us for feeling anxious or fearful when it lies, proving its point as it were; like we’re not wholly submitted to God or some such, so it must be telling the truth. Guilt upon guilt. Doncha just love it?
Wow, that’s the first time someone’s ever told me that about my OCD. ;~; I mean, I’ve had people tell me that they can RELATE to what I’m going through, or that they understand, but… well, I really needed to hear that. I’ve often felt so alone with my struggles with this, felt that maybe it WASN’T OCD sometimes, that what it was telling me was valid, because it so often felt like almost no one really had my main set of symptoms.
Yeah, I can remember some of those parts from your story, I think. Like when Neely was excessively worrying about whether talking to strangers was sinful or not? Like that? I sometimes feel like that. Like, you know, why does no one else think the way I do? I get things that pop into my head, things that I really can’t argue with, i.e. “God, help me not to do things that would cause me to sin.” Can’t argue with that, right? But then I start excessively worrying that if I do something that I like and I sin while doing it, that I can never do that something again instead of just not doing the actual sin, etc, etc. I know it’s crazy, but each time, I get blindsided because I can’t automatically dismiss it, y’know?
Thank you for the advice.
I’m taking inositol at the moment and does seem to help sometimes, but I’ll definitely keep my eye out for a good therapist.
I might drop by more often to comment on stuff, then. Thank you for the invitation and the encouragement. *hugs*
I’m here to listen and encourage anytime, Nonny! I hope your Inositol will do wonders for you. *hugs*