Well, I am back to writing after a long hiatus. This has been a terrible spring for illness! Our family has had a continuous string of colds and flus for the past couple of months. Taking care of a sick toddler and husband, and feeling under the weather myself has left me little time or energy to write. So that’s my excuse. I’m back now, and really hoping you’ll stick with me!
A ton of ideas for this blog have come up for me, so I’m not sure where to start. I’ve decided to start small and tell you about one of the tougher struggles I had recently. I’ve been doing well for the most part, but there are still plenty of battles in my brain. OK to be completely honest, even at this stage of recovery some days are just a matter of getting through a moment at a time, weathering a storm of worries that hurl themselves at my consciousness from various sides. It isn’t possible to explain to someone who has not dealt with OCD what it is like to live with an obsessive-compulsive brain--even a recovering one. It’s a lot of work. What looks to others like the simplest decision could be a major conundrum, an agonizing wrestling match in the brain of someone suffering from OCD. So, in an attempt to help you see through the eyes of another….
Lily-girl and I--as a team (haha)--started a new job recently. A friend of mine went back to work after her second maternity leave, and needed someone flexible to babysit on a casual schedule. So, a few times a month I take my "co-worker" over to their place, and get to watch three babies instead of one. I love it! My friends’ kids are perfect little angels (pretty well), and so full of zest for life. They are great companions for my lonely only, and the extra cash doesn’t hurt. Still, it is my first job post-partum and post-OCD-recovery, and I am encountering some unique challenges. Like when someone else’s child sticks her hand in my mouth. Or when navigating someone else’s kitchen, I think I’m reaching for a jar of peanut butter for a quick snack and find it is full of vegetable peelings for the compost (Aaargh! One of my absolute worst fears, by the way).
The particular day I am remembering was the warmest day of the spring thus far, so the babies played outside for most of the morning and got filthy in the sandbox. I didn’t think it would bother me so much, but it did. Don’t ask me why: I’m trying not to get into details in case someone with OCD reads this blog! Suffice it to say that I was experiencing unreasonably high levels of anxiety for the rest of the day. I was particularly worried about lily-girl’s sandy socks, which I intended to change when we got home, but forgot. She and her Daddy decided this was the day to invent a new game with those socks, and they were playing it on our unmade bed, right on the surfaces I would later lay my face on. Of course I wanted to change the sheets, and wondered if that would really be unreasonable. But I didn’t have time for such a major endeavor (our only other set of sheets is rather too small for our bed) and besides, I knew Jem would be annoyed and say that I was giving in to the OCD. I decided instead to flip the pillow over and sleep between the top sheet and blanket.
Some of you may think this story is funny. Some may recognize the pain of the dilemma. Some may have no idea what I am talking about! Whatever your reaction, I just hope you recognize that it is hard. I can't know if I made the “right” decision--should I have pushed myself more to face the fear? Or was I actually too nonchalant about a real danger? There is so much self-doubt involved in navigating life with OCD.
But you know what I am discovering? There is grace. There is grace when I make mistakes (whether real or imagined)--like forgetting to change my daughter’s socks, or not washing my hands “perfectly” every time. And there is grace for where I am in dealing with OCD. There is grace for not making the “right” decision all of the time. There is grace for not being completely "recovered" (whatever that would mean!) There is enough grace, even for me.
