One Year Later

     This week is the anniversary of the huge meltdown that pushed me into therapy. I thought I'd finally had some kind of psychotic break, and that I was going to be placed in some kind of psychiatric facility. A year ago this week, I was hysterical. I was terrified that if anyone knew what was running through my mind, they would think I was evil. I thought I was evil, unworthy of God's love, even. I was so sure I would feel that way forever, that no one could help me. I can remember all those feelings just like it happened yesterday.
     A year later, and I'm still struggling. For the past few weeks, I have only been moderately hysterical, medicated, or asleep, with a few days of high functioning sprinkled in. (Hey, those few good days are better than nothing.) The fear that I'm not a good person (my biggest OCD issue) tries to creep back into my mind on a daily basis right now, and sometimes the OCD feels like it still wins. My situation right now seems similar to the place I was in at this time last year.
     Even though my current situation seems similar to the place I was in last year, there is one difference, and it's a very important difference. I understand now. I understand that these thoughts and this seemingly never-ending worry that I'm still not a good person are just the OCD. I understand that thoughts don't matter. I understand what is happening in my mind, and I know how to manage it (even if I'm struggling to manage it all right now). I also understand that these unpleasant feelings won't last forever. I know I can eventually get back to the place where my OCD isn't the loudest thing in my mind. I was just in that place about a month ago, and I was in that place for around 8 months. I was okay for 8 months, and I will be okay again. I understand that mental illness waxes and wanes over time, and that even when it gets worse, it isn't my fault. I understand that my anxiety and guilt aren't some sort of divine punishment.
     I will admit that I'm not in the place I thought I would be or in the place I wanted to be a year after what I was sure was a psychotic break. I expected to move through therapy in leaps and bounds instead of toddling along in baby steps with the occasional moments when I lose my balance and fall down. I will also admit that my super high expectations of therapy and of myself are part of my problem. My high expectations of myself even play a part in my obsession about whether or not I am truly a good person. (One year later, and I still need to work on not being too hard on myself.)
     One year later, and the point is that I survived. One year later, and I've fought my way into the place where I am right now. One year later, and I'm still a work in progress, and that's okay. The point is that I'm still trying everyday, and I know I have a long journey (still) of more treatment and recovery ahead.
     I'll end with this: It's nice to stop sometimes and just look at the progress you've made, even if you feel like you haven't made much progress at all. You're trying, so give yourself a break. If you're in a bad place right now, please don't lose hope. It can get better, and it will get better eventually. Our minds can be bullies so don't believe everything you think (something I'm still working on myself.)