An OCD story that is not pretty!

This story might help for others to understand Entangled's replies.

He found this by someone who was able to allow me to get deep into myself.

I commend him.

Yet, my story must be told of my early years as an OCD suffere and Mother who was OCPD.



What I am telling you is very emotional!

But, we all have unique experiences.

We have very valid points for many to hear on OCD

IF you have ideas after reading this...I would like to know.

One thing I want to know..when I moved out..my Mom changed.. she had a selective memory..and I could see that. The horror is gone...as long as I am not living with her. We do much together, now...for she is elderly and I want to make up and we have talked about other things that she couldn't...like her life...So...right now...with my Mom..it's not as bad as it sounds below...

But, you must know...the horror!

If it wasn't for my own life experiences..I don't think I could have ever loved my Mom...I thank God for that !


Time period: beggining from memory!

MY Mom was nightmare...so were friends when I was little. I only had one true friend I could count on..a girl!

We were great friends and Mother hated her!

But she blacksheep like me!

Imagine calling on your friends and after they said they'd play..you could look out your window as they ran hoping they didn't "ditch ya!"

One friend...I never underestimated women...and I like them...heterosexually, too..I worked under them in Psyche hospital and saw what they can do as proffesionals.

Girl's..you want ideas how to get up in the world..I know!

But, back to the subject.

I had two places to live when I was little..a corner of basement I was afraid of.. and a den..10 X 6 maybe!

That's it. My Mother had OCPD so bad that I was unclean and could never be in anyother place.

So, I have OCD..I'm a slob!

For running in the house as hyper kid..I was locked in closets..for Mom knew I was scared of them..and thought it a great punishment!

Being a marrage saving baby, my 13 year older sister..a teen, would argue and defend me as I kept looking at a dreaded light from a crack of a closed door. She never won..she left at eighteen. The coal room..made into a make shift store room was my worst fear.

As I got worse as OCD, since 2, I was taken in the middle of the night to that place and was expected to lie on dirty matress in the "Coal Room"...until my Dad snuck me away..knowing my terror.

My Dad..mostly shut up all the time. He was my Sisters girl..(Marrage saver baby)..but.. rarely.. he came and rescued me!

IF he stood up for me..realizing I was right..Mom was packing bags to leave to ENGLAND where she felt she belonged until she was so pitiful...we just left and she stayed in her kitchen and "everything was forgotten."

As teen...the same stuff... prevoleges...I stayed an hour earlier and never had what the friends had. Everyone got together at night for "kick the can"...I was calledin!

Embarrassment.

I finally got into my ROOM!

When I got into an argument..no one wins...so i would leave...listen to music load..twenty minutes later, for curiousity, I turned it down and snuck to the ear shot of the kitchen...

Mom was still condemning since the time was born...and no one was there...I went back up and ...to my music.

The tide turned when I was 18...no more $#%^!

FIne... I left the house in 20 degree or below weather..no coat or nothing...I didn't come back!

Three blocks away my father found me.."Let's work this out!" I was still walking! "We want to talk!" I kept waking! "She really wants to talk?"

I told Dad..I'm tired of talking to her...I'd rather keep waling until I'm dead! IF I run, I will be dead even sooner! Better that..than to go through that hell!"

Now, they new I was surious! (Actually, I was headed for the police station. I did not want to die. I thought if I could run..I'd make it before hyperthermia. My intellect was governing my emotions and I wanted to make it!

No I went home.

I got provoleges..as long as I let my parents know if I was late...fine...

IN college... I was free..but, scared to death of being alone!

A fairytale marriage went down the drain...of all my hopes and dreams... it was sinking and I could do a thing about it.

I became suicidal...extreme depression and anxiety and they found the OCD right away.

Working pysche hospital during college became the real mightmare that patients go through..that locked door.

A unique perspective...?

I want to help anyone on this thread and and ALWAYS open for suggestions.

That is what I am here for, too.

Entangled

Why allow what another has done to you to define who you are?
Why give them that power?

I have been molested all my life and I am now the most moral heterosexual woman by choice!

I am not giving anyone that power!

I hope you found the friend of antidepressants in your ally!


Let your definging moment be a crusader, not a victim!

I also dont agree with people that have been molested that they just turn around and molest others! I never molested anyone! Everyone is a human being with feelings!

I think you sound like someone with Post-traumatic-stress Disorder!

Suicide is a PERMANENT solution to a TEMPORARY problem!

"I think you sound like someone with Post-traumatic-stress Disorder."

I can see that you are trying to help me. But, what your angle is hard to follow?

" I should"...doesn't work. "I already know what I should do! Getting there is the problem...and, just going to point A to point B would be God send!

It's working to find the answer... take a route that goes there. MY route of complete healthcare is narrow, like a hiking path that is exhausting.

Doing it all the time in your mind is so exhausting, that, you become sick.

But, there is a path that is so easy, that I don't even think about it. It a freeway called low self-esteme, whee you can't stick up for yourself. It goes 200 miles an hour and...

Which one do you do?

By the time the answer is "take the high path", which is a second of time, I'm already at point B on the freeway...not even knowing I did it.

The comments you have put...appears to me like, shrug it off your shoulders! If I could do that, I'd cured!

It's not that easy..as everyone else on this forum will tell you.

Sometimes blunt reality checks work..and, sometimes they don't.

They are necessary, or you'll find yourself so hopeless that you find no stanima..which is needed in every situation here.

Drugs...Therapy...Groups...you are only 2/3rds of the way...the rest is stanima!

Thanks for your reply!

Entangled...