Lurking...

It's there. Beneath the skin. Pulsing and pounding. Stretching and vying for a better hold. The anxiety. This damned feeling of ever present dread. And I don't know why. It hovers in the background like that forgotten something that I just can't quite put my finger on. OCD is like that sometimes. Not a conscious feeling but more of a subconscious guilt. A haunting of my soul. A mist of my mind. A deep fog that settles over everything I touch and see, making it impossible to breathe. I can't see it or smell it. I can't taste it or touch it with my hands but make no mistake, it is there. Lurking. Waiting. Stalking me.

It bothers me. The repetitive thoughts and notions. The overwhelming guilt associated with it. The unwanted images. The disturbing thoughts. The loudness in my head. The coppery taste of fear. The rapid heart beat. The sinking feeling of guilt that churns in the pit of my stomach. Always the feeling that somehow I have done something wrong........or worse, that somehow I am responsible for something bad happening.

If I had a quarter for every time someone has told me I am repeating myself, I would give Bill Gates a run for his money. I hate that. The notion that the fact that I can not simply just let things go, annoys people. I am not trying to annoy. I just can't help it. I can't let the subject go until I feel that I have been heard. Sometimes, not even then. I feel like the OCD feelings have filled me up to the point of spilling over and so I end up purging. I end up talking about the same things over and over again. Each time hoping that this time, finally, the bad feelings will ebb away. That I have released the OCD demon and can breathe again.

I wonder if other people understand me. I wonder if they understand the need to talk about the same things are a way to get them out. Set the creatures loose. That those conversations are the verbal equivalent of sticking my fingers down my throat to expel the guilt, shame, frustration, and pain. that they are me purging. I don't repeat myself because I forgot the things I said. I do it to be able to forget and move on to something else.

It is frustrating to talk and talk and talk and feel like I am being tuned out. I know that I have said these things a million times but until I feel the relief then I have to say them again. I need to feel like what I say has been heard. I know that's hard to do. To listen to someone go on and on and on about the same crap. I have OCD, I am not delusional. I know that I repeat myself. Sometimes, it is because I feel I wasn't really listened to. Sometimes, it is because the person I am talking to is bobbing there head up and down like they are paying attention but their eyes hold the thousand yard stare. Sometimes, it is simply because the feeling of the purge hasn't happened yet. I still feel too full of the negative, debilitating, taint and can't shake loose of the feeling of anxiety.

Only then can I enjoy a few moments of relief. Until something else pops up. Then I am sure I will have to talk about that as well...repeatedly.

Being repetitive is a part of having OCD. It is it's calling card, if you will. If we do something, you can bet we are going to do it again....and again...and again. It's all part of the illness and as frustrating as it is for you to have to hear it, it is even more frustrating for us to have to do it. Frustrating and painful. Devastating and often times lonely. Like ripping the scabs off of old wounds only to re bandage them again. So if someone with OCD wants or needs to readdress a subject you have already discussed, please take a moment and think about how hard it is for them to have to go over it again for the sixteenth time with the anxiety building each time. We don't enjoy it. We don't want to do it. We just want relief and if at all possible, a tad bit of understanding.

Until next time,
Neurotic Nelly