not everyone with ocd washes their hands a lot
not everyone with ocd has a clean room
not everyone with ocd is organized
ocd is so much more than organization and hand washing and cleaning things. people need to understand this
ocd
:
support system and blogs for people with ocd are also ridiculously lacking, so if you have it or feel that you have it and have no support system currently and need some support my ask box is always open and i will listen to anything you have to say and help you out, because you also sometimes need to really talk to someone who knows and understands what you’re feeling
please reblog this so it actually gets circulation
Yes please
Okay pals you wanna know what OCD is
It’s not when you sort your shoes by color. It’s not when clean your room twice a week. It’s not when you flip the pillow over five times because you need to find JUST the right cool spot
OCD is when you apologize to someone twenty times over nothing because you just don’t feel sorry enough every time. OCD is washing your hands until the skin cracks because the germs can’t ALL be dead. OCD is when you can’t pray in peace because you’re afraid you’ll be punished in some way if you mess up. OCD is hiding under your blankets because you heard someone say something that you never, under any circumstances, want to let yourself repeat. OCD is letting an outlandish thought grow like a parasite in your brain until it affects your very notion of reality. OCD is not being at peace in your own mind because there’s always something there that you don’t want, hitting you over and over and over and never stopping no matter what, like your brain has some sort of masochistic point to prove. OCD is trying your hardest not to crack, not to make a face, not to cry out because you don’t want people to stare. OCD is feeling like your brain is going to collapse on itself. OCD is the constant feeling that somehow, it’s all your fault
You wanna say “everyone is a little OCD” and think your strange little habits make you cute and quirky? Okay, whatever. But chances are that when you go to sleep at night, you’re not worrying about finding a moment of peace when your thoughts will just leave you alone. Maybe your dreams don’t haunt you the next day like some kind of sin. Maybe your worries all fit neatly into a little box in the back of your mind because even your THOUGHTS are organized, you silly little neat-freak, you.
And maybe, just maybe, you don’t know a darn-tootin’ thing about OCD, you glorious little frick nugget, and you should shut your cute n’ quirky mouth before I punch it closed. Twice. With each hand. Anything less would just feel weird.
The Casual Vacancy
I finally have it! And I read it! It was good, but so bleak and sad.
Very bleak and sad. I didn’t expect the ending, not at all- two children dead, and very little punishment dealt to the most awful characters in the book. Which, of course, probably reflects reality- but I wanted to see Simon at least suffer, and he didn’t.
Let’s go character-by-character:
Sukhvinder
I loved Sukhvinder, loved her. She was by far my favourite- I related to her most out of everyone. And she’s easily the most heroic character in the novel, risking her life without a second thought to try and save Krystal’s brother.
(Here’s an awful thought- would she have succeeded, if she hadn’t cut her foot on Simon’s discarded computer? Or was it too late for Robbie anyway?)
Before I read this book I heard there were complaints about the unflattering descriptions of her physical appearance. But I don’t think the people making the complaints had read the book at all, because all these comments come from Fats, an odious little bully making her life a misery. The insults about her size and facial hair come from him, definitely not from Rowling- Sukhvinder’s wonderful, and easily brave enough that she could have fitted right in to Harry Potter’s Gryffindor…
Simon and the Prices (Andrew, Paul and Ruth)
I hated Simon. SO MUCH. Obviously we’re meant to, because he’s a violent abuser, but…oh, it drove me insane that he never got his punishment. He lost his job, true, but he deserved prison. Or worse.
And Andrew decided to make him an ally! Oh, Andrew. And then there was Paul, who seemed to have it even worse…he barely says much through the whole novel, he’s just there to be verbally abused or hit.
And Ruth doesn’t leave her horrible, horrible husband and nothing gets better. What if Andrew or Paul grow up to be Simons? They still might and it’s awful, one of the bleakest things in the book…
Krystal and the Weedons (Terri and Robbie)
…the other one is Krystal’s story, it’s horrible. Especially since, everything she did she did for her brother, and he ended up dead because of it. With him gone she had nothing left to live for, and her last day on Earth was full of pain and panic and she died to the sound of her aunt calling her a bitch…her life was so wasted, it made me want to cry.
But you know what I haven’t seen anyone else mention in reviews, to my surprise? She saved Andrew’s life! When she was just a little girl, her cleverness and confidence saved him- he’s alive because of her. That bit broke my heart, that here was this girl who goes to her grave written off as a ‘soulless creature’, (while it was Fats, of course, who gave Andrew the peanut that nearly killed him) and yet she saved a child’s life and spent all her teenage years trying to save another. Some ‘soulless’…
Colin
My own OCD is very similar to Colin’s. Not as bad, but similar-
-reading the reviews for this book confirmed to me beyond all shadow of a doubt that people don’t get OCD. Because: Colin was not a paedophile, nor did he have paedophilic fantasies. He was just terrified that he might, or that he’d already done something awful, or that he was a rapist or murderer. Because that’s what OCD does to you, it gets inside your head. Colin had a serious illness, well explained by Rowling, and yet the reviews that talked about him being a potential paedophile were numerous. Well done, world, you’ll do me so much good…
Fats
I don’t know what to make of him. I think he may well have been a psychopath- he tried to kill another child in primary school, after all. He subjected Sukhvinder to vile, racist bullying for no reason, he was cruel and thoughtless and played a large part in the death of a child-
-but was that all his fault or did his start in life play a part? I don’t know.
I hated him, but I think he does have the potential to become a better person. Probably. Hopefully.
Everyone else
There were other people in the novel, obviously, but they didn’t really jump out at me as much as the above mentioned did.
I certainly admire JK’s ability to juggle so many characters at once, though- and to make me care so much about a lot of them. And you know what…even though it’s nothing to do with Harry Potter, I’d love to see a fanfic where Krystal Weedon recieves a Hogwarts letter. If no-one else has written it, I might write it myself.
sorry guys I’ve just never run into a character that has this//this much discussion of it at ALL I mean shit I didn’t even know I had Sensory Integration until I was 14
I was so pissed that my parents didn’t even think to explain to me that I was different because my brain was different, because…
I am mostly still on my tumblr-cation (Val, pretty much I’ve been checking your Tumblr and John Green’s, so feel special, I guess?), but I logged back in so I could reblog this.
I had a similar experience with obsessive-compulsive disorder. �?My parents couldn’t really have done much about it, as they didn’t realize I had it and the one thing that might have helped—seeing a therapist—was something that terrified me as a child. �?My parents suggested it, and I begged and pleaded with them not to take me. �?But I spent a lot of time thinking I was a terrible person, when it wasn’t that I was doing things wrong; there was actually something wrong with me.
Obsessive-compulsive disorder does not always manifest in the counting of things, the touching of walls, the straightening and alphabetizing and organizing that television teaches us to expect. �?OCD has subtypes, some of which are oddly specific and quite different from what you would probably think of when you imagine a person with the disorder.
There is, in particular, a subtype of OCD called scrupulosity. �?This is an abnormal and unhealthy preoccupation with religious or moral correctness. �?I spent so much time worrying that I had accidentally sold my soul, whispering repetitive prayers to apologize for or “undo” a blasphemous thought, and crying over things I did wrong because all I wanted was to be good and it seemed like my mind was against me. �?I thought I was the most sinful of children, that I was doing things that could never be forgiven. �?
Everyone has ridiculous automatic thoughts. �?The difference between most of you and a person with scrupulosity is that if something absurd like, “I would like ice cream so much I’d pretty much sell my soul for it,” popped into your head, you would go, “That was a weird thought,” and move on. �?I, on the other hand, would probably spend the next thirty seconds chanting under my breath that I didn’t mean it, that I was sorry, and that the devil should go away. �?I know it’s stupid. �?I know! �?But it’s much easier to recognize your disordered thinking than to rewire your brain.
I didn’t realize that I had OCD until high school, and when I read an article about scrupulosity, it made my whole life make sense. �?I wasn’t a horrible person, and I wasn’t failing hideously at religion. �?I was just a little bit glitchy. �?
I am writing this because I don’t want anyone else to go around feeling evil when you’ve just got some wires crossed. �?If anything I’ve said rings a bell, you might want to check out the Wikipedia pages on OCD and scrupulosity and/or the OCD Foundation’s website. �?(I guess I can’t put hyperlinks in this type of post?)
As for what you do about it, well, that’s up to you. �?I have tried talk therapy, which for me personally was somewhat useful but not really mind-blowing; Cognitive Behavior Therapy, which is supposed to be quite good for OCD if you’re willing to work for it, although I never really kept up with the homework my therapist gave me; antidepressants, which didn’t like my body chemistry and gave me some weird side effects; and mindfulness meditation, which I think would also have been good if I had actually kept up with it. �?I’ve also heard good things about Inositol, which is a dietary supplement, but I’ve never tried it. �?So there are a lot of things you can try. �?Honestly, though, I think just knowing what’s wrong with you is a huge relief. �?Knowing that you’re not the only one and that it doesn’t make you stupid or a bad person.
I’m going to sleep now, and I don’t log into Tumblr all that often, but if anyone has any questions about OCD or scrupulosity, I would be happy to try to answer them, whenever the next time I check my ask box is. �?Which is to say, I am happy to help, but seldom here, if that makes sense. �?Good night, Tumblr.
This is how I feel!
Especially the scruplousity thing. I’ve had huge problems with that. My parents once had a copy of The God Delusion lying around and not only could I not read it I couldn’t touch it. I never used to be able to watch or touch DVDs of Supernatural, either, although that thankfully didn’t last long. (Then I started watching it and liked it.) I was afraid if I did anything wrong at all, God would punish me. Even though normally I don’t even believe in him…
My mental health story
You know…I think it’s finally time to put this on the Internet. I want to talk about it, just to a) get it off my chest and b) hopefully help others….I don’t go into too much detail, but there might be some triggers…
Okay, so: I’d always had slight mental health problems, as far back as I can remember. One of my earliest memories is hearing about ‘devil worshippers’ on the radio news, and then later on it popping into my head that I was one, and that God would punish me. I was only nine or ten, and my family was quite religious then, and I was really scared. And I’ve always had trichotillomania, although it was never diagnosed (as far as I know). When I was little I had a bald patch from where I pulled out my hair, and even to this day I have this thing where I wind it around my finger and then pull it out. (I have sort-of conquered this now, by using a scarf and pulling out the tassles on the scarf instead.)
Anyway, I have a fear of a Thing (I won’t go into it, everyone has a different Thing anyway) and I do weird stuff to prevent this Thing happening. When I was in high school, the cafeteria sold these awesome hot cookies, but one day I was queuing up and a voice in my head said “If you buy and eat those delicious cookies, the Thing will happen.” So that was the end of the cookie-eating. I still can’t eat certain foods at certain times, although I am getting slightly better in that regard. Slightly.
Things really went downhill in the closing months of 2007, though. I think it was partly triggered by the suicide of one of my schoolfriends. My parents and her parents were friends too and it shook my dad up pretty bad. From about October 2007 to December 2007, I was a wreck, and I am amazed I didn’t get sectioned. I used to do things like go an entire uni day without water, because if I drank any the Thing would happen. I have vague memories of some guy trying to chat me up, offering to buy me a drink, and I thought he was the devil or something trying to tempt me. When I did eat or drink, it had to be in a specific order. The rest of the time I honestly just…sat there. I was too afraid to do anything in case it caused the Thing. When I say nothing, I mean…nothing. I didn’t watch TV or listen to music or anything. I just sat there.
And then there was the hoarding- I hoarded my hair. (I kept it on top of a chest of drawers) I didn’t clean up because I was afraid of throwing anything away. I didn’t clean the bathroom, even. You guys heard of Howard Hughes, and what happened when he had his breakdown? I went…kinda like that. I hoarded everything. And no, I didn’t cut my nails, either, or shave, even though I wanted to. I couldn’t.
This whole thing made university very difficult indeed. One of my worst memories ever is of some guys in my class stealing my pencilcase and finding hair inside it. (Any hair that fell out while I was out, I put in my pencilcase until I could take it back and put it with the rest). I’d give my right arm to go back in time and change that. I also remember scrambling about in a toilet looking for a hair that fell on the floor- on the toilet floor, I mean, come on. I remember thinking at that point, “What’s going on? What am I doing? This isn’t how anyone should live,” but by then I was too far gone to care.
There were so many uni problems. I’d be interested to go back and look at the creative writing work I handed in then. Because I did hand in all my work on time, but…oh god, uni for those few months was a nightmare. I actually met Louis de Bernières when he came to give a lecture and to this day I have no idea what I said to him.
I survived that time mostly because of the kindness of my boyfriend, who took me to a therapist and also to the cinema several times (the cinema memories are my only good memories of those few months). I did eventually start to come out of it. I met several very good therapists, and I started to get better. Obviously there was a lot to overcome. The hoarding started to go, but scrupulosity was another big one. For ages I was afraid of reading or even touching books that criticised religion, like The God Delusion and so on. And things like tarot cards and books about ghosts. Even Supernatural, I couldn’t touch! (I’m over that now, as fans of that show will probably be pleased to know). Maybe that’s related to my family’s earlier attitude to religion (when I was really little, I wasn’t allowed to say ‘oh my god’ because it was blasphemy), I dunno. That is mostly gone now, though.
So…yes. Other interesting stuff:
-I once spent an entire Wednesday morning thinking my cat was a demon. (This is the anecdote I usually use to break the ice whenever the topic of mental health comes up). It winked at me, and I didn’t like that, so I spent several hours avoiding it.
-I sometimes call myself ‘a mental’, but I’d never call it anyone else.
-I still have panic attacks over really stupid things, but that’s almost a good thing, because it means I can sort of analyse my emotions without there being any actual danger present
-I still do things to stop The Thing happening, but it’s (usually) much less painful and noticeable now
-I sometimes worry, when walking down the street or on the bus, that I’ve just shouted out something incredibly offensive out loud at someone. This used to be much worse (I used to worry about doing it during school assembly) but now I just make myself think ‘Well, no-one is yelling at me or punching me, so I must not have done it.’
-A lot of my OCD is focused around numbers, assigning different things to different numbers and so on. That’s why I have numbers in my screenname, they’re all numbers that mean something to me.
-I get nervous on Friday the 13th (like yesterday…which is why I wasn’t on Tumblr much yesterday) and I get really nervous typing the three-sixes number, you know the one. Fun fact: when that number cropped up in the Doctor Who episode ‘Midnight’ I thought I’d imagined it and got all nervous until watching Confidential proved it was actually said in the episode.
-I still get the voice that says ‘if you do this the Thing will happen’. It does stop me from doing things something. I don’t know if it will ever completely go away.
…Okay, that’s kind of it. My mental health history, or the important bits anyway. (Or all the important bits I can remember and am comfortable talking about). I hope it helps people in some way. If you have any questions, just ask. :)
in honour of my new tag
Having OCD is sort of weird because it’s like…I never know for certain what I’m really thinking. Take religion. I’m an agnostic, but I was brought up Christian…I went to a school with crucifixes in the classroom, said prayers before bedtime, that sort of thing. It was the nice kind of religion (no damning or ranting going on), and I don’t really know if my religious upbringing had anything to do with my future mental illnesses, but these days there’s a voice telling me to be careful not to offend God. Even though I don’t technically believe in him. It doesn’t really make sense, you see? Some days I don’t like to say “Oh my God,” in case it counts as blasphemy, and so on. Or touch…even just brush against…any books lying around that criticise religion.
Despite being not religious.
(Turns out there’s a name for this: Scrupulosity.)
Briony
Briony Tallis was always my favourite character in Atonement, both book and movie. Most people I watch the movie with don’t understand why, and don’t have any sympathy for her in the slightest.
I always had sympathy for her. She was cold and arrogant and selfish, but I always related to her. When I was in high school I had this really amazing English teacher. She went off on tangents a lot and one day she was talking about some man she used to know, and then stopped and said “I should have married him.” She was married already, and I thought once, nasty thoughts like this pop into my head all the time, OCD and all that, what if I saw her with her husband one day and said to him, “She wishes she’d married someone else!”
Obviously I never did it. Plus it’s probably not even me thinking, it’s the OCD. But still. That’s why I could never not sympathise with Briony.
(no subject)
Brief update on myself…
Have been feeling a lot better recently. Have also had a lot of uni work, which has not helped with the stress but is finally nearly finished. Or at least one of them is.
Basically these days I’m doing stuff, just doing it in a OCDlike way. Which is better than nothing.