(Oh So Priceless—band name here?)
Don’t read this if the V-word is a trigger for you. Don’t do it. I promise you will regret it, and I promise you aren’t missing anything too exciting.
So we’re playing a game right now called can Wiggle Worm type this post fast enough to get it published before the computer runs out of battery, because *someone* didn’t think she’d use her computer much today and therefore didn’t pack a charger…okay fine, that someone was me.
I feel frustrated weeks like this because I feel like it is my fault how things went the bad year. I know that it is never the abuse victim’s fault…I at least should know that with how many times I’ve listened to the book “The Healing Path” by Dan Allender (and I’ve listened to a lot of his other books which are on similar topics), but getting it from the head to the heart is challenging at times.
But in retrospect, that added so much stress to my life that it almost definitely impacted the OCD…and the OCD decided to remind me this weekend that the marble rolled through the sand a few too many times and the ridge is still there for more marbles to fall into, and fall they have.
When it takes a day and a half to open up your wallet to look for your intern licenses because you keep getting almost there and then have to wash your hands or have to look up how to kill germs in such and such location or whether this thing can go in the washing machine and then it is suddenly time for a meal which comes with more challenges…you know that you have an uninvited visitor…to be fair, the sink was LITERALLY covered in someone else’s toothpaste smears, and there was cat vomit covered in blankets and also just on the floor, but I also know I overreacted to that.
I was far from COMPLETELY over it, but I was doing really well—definitely at a level I would be able to live with long term if I had to—until I started walking to school. Part of the sidewalk was covered in like five puddles of something which may have been vomit…I know it very well could have been something else, but because of my past with OCD, every wet spot anywhere is assumed to be likely vomit. Wet kitchen floor? Probably someone vomited and cleaned it up poorly and the germs are everywhere. Wet carpet? Likely from cleaning up vomit. Wet puddle on sidewalk? Probably from hosing off vomit which means the entire city is contaminated from runoff into water systems, and this particular street is definitely dangerous. In my defense, these puddles were definitely not just water, and there were no visible food wrappers to indicate a simple case of spilled food. I was not doing awesome after that, but I was managing…and then I got to school, and even though I was pretty sure that nothing bad was going to happen to me (on the non-germ front anyway), the anxiety came on and tried to take over. It is a Very Good Thing that I have friends who insist on me eating, because eating dinner was an accomplishment today. I didn’t know if it was going to happen. Even once the food was in front of me, getting the food into my mouth and swallowed seemed like too much. I was overwhelmed. Lol, yesterday I was watching a few face your fear videos on youtube (youtube is great for some human interaction when you feel lonely…), and today I was thinking how ridiculous my face your fear video would be if someone did one of me. Here is Wiggle Worm. Here is her food. Will she eat it? That would be a lame video. I did it though, and that made me feel proud. Anxiety might creep in, but it will not have the final say on my life. I have a God who is more powerful that anything that is thrown my way.
I love how really facing a fear can be so powerful. Now that the food is in my stomach, it seems so silly to not eat dinner—especially since I now know that I do sometimes experience low blood sugar (but it isn’t dangerous, because I am not diabetic so my body knows how to compensate), and anecdotally I can definitely tell that eating something to more rapidly correct the low can help me to avoid a lot of anxiety. It is insane how a single jolly rancher is enough sometimes to take me from like a seven and rising to a two and falling. So clearly, not eating when I feel anxious makes absolutely no sense, but try telling that to anxious Wiggle Worm. Not only that, but even though I still feel too anxious now to eat something just because it is in front of me, eating something did bring me to the point where I do not feel imminently in danger. While that might not seem significant, I can guarantee that there is a huge difference between imminently in danger and “just” in danger. Neither feels good, but the latter is a lot better than the former. Right after I conquer a fear, I feel like I am strong—a feeling that is missing when I am deeper into the fear cycle. I know in my head that I am very strong, but being not strong is something I was told enough times the bad year that I internalized it, and sometimes knowing I am strong doesn’t get back into my heart.
So yeah, all that to say I hope tomorrow is a better day, but currently I’m on a boil order, which you can imagine doesn’t bode well for someone who was struggling with germ issues when water was supposedly safe…I will not be defeated. Like the song “Dirt Don’t Hurt” says, “dirt and germs help make me stronger by building immunity.” I struggle to believe that sometimes, but I am really proud of myself. Even in the pits on Sunday and Monday when things started going downhill, the things I didn’t do are definitely noteworthy. I didn’t pour vinegar on the floor even though someone on the internet said that would kill germs (good because I hate the smell of vinegar so it would probably have increased my anxiety level and the idea of vinegar killing germs seems pretty shady to me), and I ran an empty load in the washer with just a splash of bleach, but I didn’t wash my hands with bleach or try to bleach anything else—not even the sink or my water bottle or my shoes or anything! Umm yeah, side note that I have never owned bleach before despite how attractive bleach is to me, BECAUSE of how attractive bleach is to me. I love how bleach smells, I love that bleach kills germs, I love bleach…which is why I have decided that the best plan of action is to pretend that I have absolutely no access to the bleach and am not allowed to use it. I don’t want to be wasteful and throw it out—especially since it isn’t actually mine, but just the bleach being there is such a temptation to me…I adore bleach even when germs aren’t on my radar whatsoever, and since it is not usually a necessity in life, owning my own bleach is not probably a good plan for me ever…’cause clearly if I love it without OCD, I love it even more with OCD…another good reason for me to be at cru tonight even if it does mean a super late night. Although lack of sleep is also bad…but keeping me separated from the bleach is probably a good thing…
Well, I didn’t make it before the death of the battery last night, and now it is tomorrow and I have to be ready for a meeting in 5 minutes so this is still going up 100% unedited…lol…I guess I’ll proofread after rotation if I get a chance…oh, and today is a much better day. I showered and ate and even took care of the trash and recycling bins (my nemesis)…up this evening: the litter boxes (which should have probs been done this morning, but that would have required getting out of bed earlier and I was running very short on time). Also, I told myself yesterday I am probably going to get myself killed someday and then I will laugh and then I discussed with myself whether or not one could laugh at herself after she was dead…totally important when tripping over flat ground and walking in the city in the dark in darker colors are my activities du jour.