An Ember.......

An ember is a glowing, hot coal made of greatly heated wood, coal, or other carbon-based material that remain after, or sometimes precede a fire. Embers can glow very hot, sometimes as hot as the fire which created them. They radiate a substantial amount of heat long after the fire has been extinguished....

The holidays fast approach us all. And although many are thrilled and caught up in the excitement of red and green, present wrapping, Christmas tree decorating, or candle lighting. As many of our houses smell of cinnamon, hot chocolate, and evergreen. As an electric cheer seems to snap through the air touching everyone in some way creating an unidentifiable warmth that spreads from person to person, I know that not everyone loves this time of year. For many it is not the best time to celebrate. To some this is not a holiday of giving and peace but a holiday full of triggers and pain. Feelings of loss. Feelings of failure. An extreme overwhelming sense of loneliness.

For those that feel this way about the Christmas/Holiday season, this post if for you more than anyone else. I know the frost in the air freezes to the bone. I know that instead of joy you only see a gray expanse of nothingness. I know that all of the carols and wishes of good cheer fall silent in your mind. I know that you feel like no one on the face of this planet understands you, knows how you feel, or gets what you are going through. That nothing can reach your heart because there is so much pain. Too much pain to accept anything else.

To those people I want to say that I was you once. I have been there. Many of us have. You are not alone. People do see you. People do understand your pain. And it is simply not true that you are a failure or that your life goes unnoticed. You matter even if sometimes it doesn't seem like it.  You are important. The people, the world, the universe needs you. You are here for a reason. We do not understand how the world works or for what reason we are where we are but that doesn't mean there is not a reason. There is and you are here on purpose. You belong here. You belong. 

I don't expect a blog post to make you feel less alone although I sincerely hope it does. And I don't expect you to change your whole feelings about holidays just because I wrote a few words. What I do hope is that this little message of support I am sending out to the world, will touch you in some small way. That it can be a little spark of hope that could turn into a tiny little burning ember. An ember that could in time, become a raging fire of self acceptance. 

I hope that this post reminds you of how important you are even if you have forgotten in the mess of things. I hope that you can start to see yourself like I do. As a strong, intelligent, magnificent human being. You are not just a person lost in the hustle and bustle of the holiday season. You are the stars that light up the sky at night. You are the magic that flows through the leaves hanging on the branches of the world's strongest tree. You are what makes the world a unique and wondrous place. You are worthy. You are important. You are not alone. You matter.

I hope this post becomes an ember that reminds you are just you and you and you are magnificent. Thinking of all of you this Holiday Season. Take care my friends....

Neurotic Nelly

Sooooo Overrated......

I am tired. So very tired. I have been so busy, I am not even sure what day it is. It is Tuesday right? I hope so, otherwise I have written on the wrong day.....again. This online school stuff with my oldest takes all day and it leaves me with virtually no time to clean my house like I need to. It is slowly driving me insane. This must be what is like to be a teacher. We don't pay them enough...they need more incentives because this shit is hard. I have to do math now......math!!!! Ugh.

I was trying to decide what to write about today, and I would like to write something informative but I am distracted by the fact that my 22 lb orange tabby smells like he has rolled in the litter box again. He hasn't because he is too fat to do so but I am wracking my brain on how he could clean himself every second of everyday and yet he still smells so horrid. I am going to have to give him a bath. As in, a real bath with actual water. I don't think this is going to be pleasant for either one of us. In fact, I am writing now because I am somewhat concerned that I won't be physically able to type after I do bathe my fat fur baby. I like my arms to be scratch free but I like my house not to reek of stinky cat more....If you don't hear from me on Thursday than you know my cat was extremely displeased and went all Cujo on me. Yikes.

Okay enough of my crazy everyday life problems. Seriously, I have no idea why I felt the need to write all of that. I apologize for making you read such drivel but that is what was on my OCD mind and I always like to write about whatever nutso thing is going through my head when I sit down to blog, God help us all...On to today's post.
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I was reading some posts today and I ran across the topic of self esteem. I think most people suffer from self esteem issues in their life times. I mean, if they don't then they are seriously lucky and should probably play the slot machines in Vegas. Self esteem issues seem to be a right of passage for most of us. It is even more of an issue for people that suffer from mental illness.

We suffer and because we suffer, we often times feel bad about ourselves. If it isn't the emotional turmoil we deal with on a daily basis, than it is the negative voice that tells us how worthless we think we are. It tells us how broken we are. How unlike everyone else we seem to be. We try and ignore it but it is hard to ignore a voice that lives in your own head. It isn't as if you can simply out run your own mind.

And like most people with low self esteem, we end up doing things that we feel even worse about later. We often end up being over sexualized so we can feel like we are desired. We usually feel like crap afterwards but in a rush to feel accepted, we often will go through demeaning things just to be "liked" no matter how fleeting that feeling may be. We can end up trying "illegal substances" or drinking alcohol too much. We end up in bad relationships and tend to put up with other people's abuse because we deep down feel that it is what we deserve. We sadly, end up being taken advantage of or manipulated more often than we realize. Why?

Because we want to be loved. We want to feel less alone. We want to finally fit in. We yearn to be acknowledged and accepted. We struggle to fill this hole that lives inside us, without ever realizing that we need to fill that hole not with others opinions of us but with ourselves. To put it simply, we look to be accepted because often times we struggle with accepting ourselves and it is painful. We know that we are different and we place blame on ourselves for that. It is a form of self destruction even though we don't always see that is what we are doing.

It takes a lot of years to reach the conclusion that the only opinion that really changes your life, is the opinion you have about your own self. If you call yourself stupid or worthless than you never see that you are in fact, neither of those things. We develop habits of putting ourselves down.

Much like an abusive relationship, we slowly grind our own self esteem down further. It is like an abusive relationship because it is, in fact, an abusive relationship. We are in an abusive relationship with ourselves. We punish ourselves. We degrade ourselves and we don't even realize we are doing it.

The truth is, that we are different. That we feel things in a different way than others. That we struggle. That we have issues but none of that makes us bad or worthless. If anything it makes us stronger than the average person. It makes us wiser and more compassionate. We beat ourselves up for things that we can not help and that is rather pointless, now isn't it. There are things we can change about ourselves and there are things that we can't but that in no way makes us broken. It in no way makes us less than. It simply makes us....well us.  And frankly, whether we know it or not, we are truly magnificent and wonderful people. We just have to realize that we are worth more than we give ourselves credit for and stop letting others dictate how much love we deserve. If we can learn to love ourselves first, then their opinions don't mean Jack. And Jack is sooooo overrated anyways. We deserve better than being someone's after thought or someone else's entertainment. We deserve to love ourselves.


Neurotic Nelly

It Does Define Me.......

I have OCD. It is a fact. A fact that I have learned to live with since the age of four. I am familiar with it's workings. I am not a doctor but I have thirty years of experience. I am aware of how it affects me and never, not once, have I ever been allowed to forget that it is there. Not because other people remind me but because my mind refuses to let me.

I am OCD. I am the face of it, the mind of it, the personality that suffers from it, the woman who cries about it, the blogger who writes about it, the mother that never feels like she is good enough of a mother because of it, the person who cant work from it, the house scrubber because of it, the loyal friend due to it, and the person who is up all night replaying the day's events and worrying over it. I am the odd man out because I am not normal and do not think like normal people do. I am OCD. It is me. There are some that say OCD doesn't define them.  I believe that whatever you need to believe to get you through is a good thing. If you believe that it does not define you, then I think that is terrific. I believe it is a personal choice and I totally support that. But for me, my OCD absolutely defines me and everything I do.

To say it doesn't define who I am would be a lie and I never lie. It does define the way I act. It is a constant battle every day. You can not have something in your life growing up everyday as a child and it not form the way you think or change the way you are. That would be impossible.

I love deeply because my OCD made me hate myself for so long.

I am loyal because I am betrayed by my mind.

I am sensitive because I know how bad it feels to hurt.

I laugh because there have been days when all I could do was cry.

I am respectful because I have been stigmatized and ostracized.

I am honest because my mind has lied to me over and over again.

I do not judge because my OCD has judged me and always finds me lacking and I will be damned before I do that to another person.

I am found because I have been lost.

I am strong because I have been weak.

 I am loud because I refuse to sit in silence and dwell in this house of pain any longer.

I have cried, struggled, pained, fought, and battled. I have warred against my faulty perceptions. I have fought against the guilt and shame that had ruled my life for so very long. It is an everyday battle and as such I am affected by it each and every day. It affects my relationships, my belief systems, the way I raise my children, the way I feel, the way I react to others, the way I speak to people, the way I physically react to life, the way I think, the way I process, even right down to the way I bathe, eat, and sleep. To say that it has not defined  me or shaped me in any would be preposterous.

Do not get me wrong, I have a personality but it is shaped by my OCD. It has to be because I have spent my life avoiding the things that trigger me or forcing myself to go through them to thwart my OCD. It is as much a part of me as my hair color or the shape of my thighs. It is more than a diagnoses or a clothing accessory. It is something I carry with me always. I have had to learn to accept that. I have had to learn to stop shaming myself or giving in to the guilty feelings because I am not like others, or think like others, or see things like others do. I have had to learn to forgive myself for all my many imagined ills and stop blaming myself for what my OCD tells or shows me. I have had to develop new mantras to replace the old childhood ones I used to use. I am not bad. I am not worthless. I am good enough. I can do this.

How can I seriously say that OCD doesn't define who I am when in essence it has shaped every part of who I am?

I no longer allow myself to pretend I am not affected but that doesn't mean I will wallow in shame or ambiguity. I am here and I am opening up the conversation. I am here and I refuse to sit idly by and let OCD just wreck my life anymore. It has shaped me and I am a stronger more fierce person because of it. I don't have to like it but I do have to accept the changes it has made in my life. Good or bad, right or wrong they are my changes and my choices. Because of my mental illness I have had to change so much I am no longer sure where I start and the parasite OCD ends. We are intertwined and that is my cross to bear. I have learned to be accepting of that. I refuse to be upset or scared or sad. I refuse to live my life ashamed and broken. I refuse to sit in the shadows and fade into darkness.   I am damaged but healing. I am scarred but beautiful. I am a good person. A kind person. A real person. This is me. OCD is me. Mental Illness is me and those that can not accept that are not worth my precious time or the OCD thoughts I would be wasting on them.

So I have OCD. I don't expect fanfare or balloons and party hats. I don't need a parade of acceptance. I am who I am simply because I am a fighter and I have OCD. I would not be the same person without it and I like who I am now. My name is Nelly and my OCD does define me. I refuse to feel bad about that, so deal with it. The days of me apologizing about it are over. I am not happy to suffer but I will be damned if I allow myself to be chastised for it. I didn't ask for this but I am rocking it. So take it or leave it just don't ask me to fell bad about it anymore. Those days are gone. This is simply me, strong, fierce, caring, beautiful, intelligent, unapologetic, and very OCD.

 I am not proud that I suffer from OCD but I refuse to be ashamed of it either.
Neurotic Nelly

Confined

In third or fourth grade I had a chorus teacher that my mom affectionately dubbed the fire breathing dragon lady. She was tall and slender and kind of resembled Skeletor. She had bright red hair cut in a style only acceptable for the late eighties and early nineties. She had this insanely gross habit of talking to class while dipping her contacts in her coffee, placing them in her mouth, sucking on them, and then putting them back on her eye balls. She was strict and quiet frankly mean. I have no idea why she is so firmly ingrained in my mind, except that later that year I was placed in a mental hospital. I don't remember her after that year, though I am sure she was still teacher there. I may have some things in that year blocked out still. I am not really sure because repressed memories are well, repressed. I was not abused but apparently the trauma of the being ripped away from my parents and institutionalized can cause damage to your psyche. Especially, if you do not need to be hospitalized and your doctor is a fraud and terrifying and lying to your parents so he can use their love for you to get insurance money. May he burn in hell.

I have a fragmented mind. I have missing memories. It irritates me because as someone with OCD I can recall memories from before the age of two, but I can not remember things when I was around ten. I didn't even realize that I hadn't told my husband of almost twelve years that I had been in the mental hospital until I wrote a post on it a few months back. I also had not told my friends. In fact I never talked about it. Never. I never even discussed it with my mother, whom I tell everything.

So what I am left with is odd fragmented visions of that time. I remember now the hospital and all that happened there, but almost nothing about when I got out. It is frustrating when I have always prided myself on remembering my childhood in a detailed degree. Almost the whole year is gone. Why can't I remember? Why?

It speaks to me that not only was I born with a genetic mental illness but I was then punished by this doctor for having one. Then he caused more damage to my already fragile mind by removing me from the people that supported and loved me.

Sometimes we are born with the illness and sometimes it is inflicted upon us. A whole year gone so he could live in a nicer house and drive a fancy car.

The repercussions of what he did to me is catastrophic. I can not go to a place with locking doors that slam and lock behind you. My palms get sweaty and I start to have trouble catching my breath. When I was admitted to the hospital twice this year for surgery I freaked. It was the all confining I can't leave feeling. I had panic attacks, which I never have. Now before surgery I also have them, because I can't get up and leave. I can't take the feeling of being not allowed to leave.

I can not do routines of doing something I am supposed to over and over again. It  is like when we had to do their schedule. Basically I was in a lightly decorated prison. We were inmates but with nicer rooms. I have no idea if the medication they gave all of us has caused any health issues. We were never told what we were taking. They never even told my parents that I was taking medication.

What does that mean for me today?

It means that I no longer allow myself to be confined in a stigma that I do not own. [tweet this]. I have mental illness but I am not a fault and I refused to be punished for it again. I refuse to be taken advantage of again. If someone is uncomfortable with the fact I have issues than they don't have to be around me. I am not going to apologize for being sick. No one apologizes for having the flu, why should I because my brain is sick. Maybe just maybe, had that doctor not been so damned worried abut a paycheck and deceiving others, I could have gotten the help I needed at that time. Instead of making me feel guilty because I had OCD maybe he could have actually given me therapy or sent me to someone who actually treated OCD. Now, I have become the voice for those that were unfairly committed for insurance money. I have decided that my illness is part of my life and I refuse to be shamed. I refuse to be put down. I refuse to be confined. I will not accept being treated like I am not a worthy individual. I lost one year of my life because of one unfit doctor and his goonies. The only memory of that year is the chorus teacher that I didn't even like? It is not fair and it is not right. I will not give anymore of my life to those who are manipulative or negative because of my illness. You either take me as I am or leave me be. Your choice, my decision. I no longer am accepting applications for fair weather friends.