I Struggle.....

I struggle daily with my OCD.

There, I said it.

I struggle with the thoughts and the obsessions. I struggle with the feeling of not being good enough. I struggle with the anxiety. I struggle in public and I struggle in private.

I struggle with people assuming I am fine because I appear to be a healthy, functional adult.

I struggle with stress and lack of sleep making my OCD worse.

I struggle that my child has inherited my mental illness and I struggle not to blame myself for it because he got it from my poisoned genes.

I struggle with not being able to drive and doing or going places that I would like to.

I struggle to have to depend on others more than I would like to.

I struggle with my children' homeschooling that makes me terrified that I am somehow failing them if I can't do everything for them correctly.

I struggle.....believe me.....I struggle.


But I am hopeful.


I can not just sit in the misery of my own making and punish myself for something I can not control. I have to force myself to remember how important we all are to this universe. I have to remember that I have people in my life who love me, depend on me, care for me. I have to remember that I have made it through thirty three years of OCD and I am still living, fighting, breathing. Yes, I struggle but that is no different today as it was yesterday, last week, or sixteen years ago. There are hard days, hard weeks, and hard months but I am hopeful.

I know there is no magical cure. I know that this will be what it is. I know that I am different because of my disorder but I also know that I am stronger than most people. That I am brave. I know that I am not someone who ever backs down. I know who I am as a person.

I remain hopeful.

And if my blog does anything for anyone, I would hope that it has helped other people feel hopeful. I would hope that it helps them feel less alone, less scared. I would hope that it would make people realize that even if they struggle how important they are, how worthy, how magnificent. I would hope that they could hear how brave and strong they are in my words and take that to heart. To know what badasses they are in their own struggles even if it is hard for them to see it themselves.

Life is full of struggles be it mental illness or not, be it stress induced panic or not, be it hard scrabble days where you fight tooth and nail just to get out of bed in the morning or a nice crisp day with nothing to worry about at all. There is always something to overcome, over throw, or override. Always......and we are pretty good at overcoming things.


So this weekend, my wish for you is to have a great week but in case you don't, I hope that you can remain hopeful....because you are important. You are worthy. You are good enough. People care.

See you all on Thursday with a new post. Hang in there.
Neurotic Nelly

You Just Can't See It Yet......

I keep seeing this floating around on the internet and it bothers me...

Gag...I am not a feminist, at least I don't think I am. I kinda feel like if you are a feminist, you know you are such. Right? I don't think I am a feminist but I am a realist. I don't blame men for everything. I don't feel like they are the cause of all evil or that everything wrong with our society is entirely their fault. No it is all of our faults. Both men and women.

This sign bothers me for many reasons. What does this even mean? Is it implying that you are fragile trinket that has fallen from a shelf? That you are a broken vase that needs to be glued back together with love and gorilla glue? 

I get irritated by this saying and it's notions. Like the fact that it implies that to be whole you have to someone else fix you. Or the fact that it seems to imply that one should just wait around while their broken pieces lay all over the place until your knight in shining armor comes to your rescue. Or even, that you need to be saved in the first place.....

I don't agree with this odd notion that you have to be rescued from yourself by someone else. That is simply not true. There are tons of people in this word that seem to think this way. That they just need someone else to save them or to make them feel "complete". I see this a lot more in younger women and girls and it perplexes me. They are constantly waiting around for Sr Galahad to come traipsing out of the wood riding upon a strong white steed, whilst saving you from your own self esteem issues, emotional baggage, and whatever else is tormenting you at the moment.

Here is something that these over romantic, immature, ridiculous memes don't tell you, you don't need to have someone save you. You have to do that yourself. You have to put in the work. You have to look at yourself and work on your issues first, before you even think about getting involved with someone else. It is not their place to fix your broken pieces, it is yours. Don't wait around for a knight in shining armor to come to the rescue because sometimes your knight in shining armor turns out to be just an idiot wrapped in tin foil. What do you do then? Who is going to hold you so tight your broken pieces fit now? Certainly not Sir Galahasn't. Take it from me. I dated him in high school, married and divorced his cousin Sir Galacan't, and I have went out with a bunch of Sir Gala-not-worth-the-time-I-spent-fixing-my-hair. It is not their fault that it didn't work out as much as it is my fault for thinking I needed them to complete me in the first place.  

What I have learned in my "old age" is that the things I deal with, my issues, my "broken pieces" don't need to be held together my someone else. Hell, they may not even need to be held in at all.  Sometimes it is perfectly okay to let them lay around on the floor and let me look at them so that I can decide on how to fix them. I can decide on if I need to glue them back in place or not. What I have learned is that, relationships are hard work and if you are too busy hating yourself, then you can't let anyone else love you. You don't have time to keep up the relationship because you are always expecting the other person to heal your wounds and make you whole. In realty, you should choose to be with that person not feel as if you can't live without them. You can. You can stand on your own. You can be whole without being in a relationship. You can conquer your fears, your issues, and your baggage all by yourself (and maybe with some therapy). 

If I could interject a better meme it would say something like this:

"Love yourself. Heal yourself. Know your worth as person. For one day you will hold yourself so tight that all of your broken pieces will fit back together. "

Because you don't need saving. You don't need the proverbial  mythical "someone" you just need you. 

Because you are strong all by yourself. You are brave all by yourself. You are capable all by yourself. You just can't see it yet.

Neurotic Nelly

It Will Come...

After I heard the news I wept. Not right after the news specifically, but after I called everyone. One would think saying it over and over again would laminate it over in my mind, "I have bad news....I am so sorry....she is gone.....I love you too." That it would soften the blow each time I said such ugly words. "I am so sorry, she is gone." I am always the one to make the calls, because it is what I do. I am the calm one. The one that can lambaste the information quickly and slightly monotone one phone call after another in rapid succession. I knew that it would be too hard for my grandmother or mother to have to keep relaying the news to others, so I became the Paul Revere of death. Crying out the information to anyone that would listen, "The grief is coming! The grief is coming!" I wanted to help, no I needed to help. To do something, anything but sit there and think about what was to come next.

Then I went in the kitchen wiped my face and had a violent argument with myself. Took stock in my own feelings. I did not want to go through this. I do not want to grieve. I hate this and I know exactly what it is going to feel like. The pain and devastation, the anger of loss. I don't want to do it and so I declared that I wouldn't. I simply wouldn't grieve the loss of my loved one. Instead, I dried the last of my tears off of my raw face and made dinner.

I am good at distraction. I am a semi closeted control freak. Usually, when a loved one passes, I immerse myself in the plans of what is to be done next. Funeral arraignments and helping the family consume the time normal people use to grieve. I do not allow grief for my own loss until everything is in order and over with. I have to be strong for my family. I am here to provide a function of getting what needs to be done, done so they can deal with the pain. I am good at distracting my feelings because it needs to be that way during this time. And so I wipe off my tears and make dinner, and do laundry, and make phone calls, and set up plans, and send flowers.

But this time is different. I am not making plans and funeral arraignments because I am not there. I am here and I have nothing to consume myself with. I can feel the deep overwhelming pull of grief swirling within me and yet I am unable to touch it with my fingers. Unable to immerse my hands in it's black gritty desperation. Unable to stick my palms into it's sticky darkness. I am simply waiting for it to reach me...

I have found myself doing 'busy work" to make the time sludge along faster. Making pointless pintrest posts and reading too many mind numbing facebook statuses. Watching B movies with the sound off. Internally planning upcoming events. There are birthdays and Thanksgiving and Christmas still to come. I am careful to avoid the mental mine fields that would hasten the memory of loss. Birthdays are fine to think about because her's was in May, and Thanksgiving is just turkey and stuffing, but Christmas is off limits. I will think of what to get my children, and husband, and follow down the line until I reach her name. Except it wont really be her name anymore, just a gaping black hole where her name used to be. Almost as if her name was written on yellowed brittle parchment only to have been scratched out and excised with a scalpel. I am afraid if I look closely I can still see where it used to be and then my battle to avoid my feelings will be lost.

 I am scared. I am scared that soon this facade will crumble and my mask will fall to the floor exposing what I know to be true. What I am currently and openly denying is happening. That I am not okay. I don't want to go through this. I do not want to feel this. I do not want to hurt like this and yet I know it is coming. It is a delayed reaction. It is much like watching a train barreling towards you as you try to jump to safety only to realize it is too late. You have already been hit by the train, you just don't know it yet. I am aware I have been struck, I am just waiting for it to arrive. I am waiting for the grief to overcome my paltry defenses and make me deal with it. Make me look at it's hideous face. Make me spill out my tears and tear out my own heart. I am sitting here waiting because I have no delusions of grandeur. It will come....and I will lose.

Rest in peace Aunt Patti,
Neurotic Nelly