For the past couple of weeks, I have been discussing exposure therapy with my therapist. I decided this week was the week that I wanted to dive into that part of my treatment. Diving in might not be the best way to describe it because I had to do some prep work before I could try it out again, but, to me, it felt like diving into the deep end when I did the exposure exercise.
I mentioned before that therapy, especially something as potentially traumatic as exposure therapy, is taken at a baby steps pace. Before I could try out exposure exercises again, I had to make sure I remembered my relaxation techniques. I also had to make sure I had a place in my mind, like a safe area, that I could retreat to in distress. I actually had to construct a happy place in my mind. (I hadn't previously done that, so I had to do that the week before and practice going there.)
I went into my weekly session this week with my preferred relaxation technique and my happy place at the ready. Near the end of my session, I had to rate my anxiety so we could have a baseline. Then I had to set a number that I thought would be okay for my anxiety to jump to. (Think of it like judging pain on one of those ER pain scales.) A two point jump is all my therapist will allow, and I'm totally fine with that.
Then came the time for the exposure exercise. Since we are treating my religious obsession first, I had to do something that would deliberately trigger my blasphemous intrusive thoughts, and I couldn't do any compulsive prayer or anything to ward off any consequences of my bad thoughts. My time limit for the trigger was 5 minutes maximum, but I only made it a couple of seconds before my anxiety jumped from a 2 to a 4 and the guilt rushed in. I tried to listen to a Gospel song, and I backed out after at most 3 or 4 seconds of the song. Then I cried. Then I had to practice my relaxation technique and go to my happy place.
I'm surprised. First, I'm surprised at the fact that I couldn't do the exercise for more than a few seconds. I had expected to get closer to the five minute maximum time limit. Second, I'm surprised at the sheer amount of guilt that came rushing in and caused my anxiety to spike even higher. I hadn't felt guilt like that in over a year, since my diagnosis. In less than 5 seconds, I was right back to feeling like I was such a bad person that I didn't belong in my church with all the good people.
According to my therapist, you have to deal with leftover feelings doing ERP. I had to deal with guilt that was left over from all those years of sitting in church, with intrusive thoughts screaming in my mind, and then hiding the shame and guilt that came after those thoughts. I have a lot of guilt to deal with after nearly six years of hiding my mental health condition and thinking I was possessed.
I only needed a couple of minutes to calm back down so I could be logical, and that was also surprising. I had stopped shaking and crying by the time I left her office. My feelings of guilt had also dropped significantly by the time I left her office.
I had been terrified that doing exposure exercises would send me into a downward spiral that would put me back in a bad place in my recovery. That didn't happen. I was exhausted but fine even after I got home. I still carried around some guilt for the rest of the day, and I was a little bit more emotional after I got home. I did notice, though, that my intrusive thoughts weren't really more intense this time, as they had been the first time I tried out an exposure exercise some months ago.
How do I feel now? I feel relieved. I feel like I jumped over a hurdle, and I managed to land on my feet instead of flat on my face. I faced a fear and then felt like I could even do it again. Although, knowing that the exposures will become more intense the longer I keep doing them as part of the desensitization to my intrusive thoughts makes me feel a little nervous.
I'll end with this: Thinking about starting ERP is scary, but going through ERP is definitely a better course of action than avoiding ERP and being controlled by my OCD. ERP is not something to be taken lightly, and it does take some prep work before you can start exercises. I don't like doing the exposures, but I do them anyway because I know that is the way to get well again.
Wednesday, October 26, 2016
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Roller Coaster
Since I have been forced to deal with my anxiety for the past year, I have realized something. I have realized that living with anxiety isn't just about managing the anxiety symptoms day-to-day; it's also about managing the roller coaster of emotions and mood swings that come with living with anxiety. I have even noticed (thanks to my mom for pointing it out and making me keep up with it) that my anxiety-induced emotional roller coaster tends to go in a specific pattern.
My pattern is always the same as far as I have noticed. I get the really high anxiety for a few days or weeks, depending on a number of factors. Then, after the anxiety starts to drop, I get super emotional. I just want to cry, about anything and everything or for seemingly no reason at all, and that lasts for a day or two. Then, after the crying comes the low period. I just feel "blah" and mildly unhappy and exhausted. I just want to curl up and watch TV all day. The low only lasts for a few days or a week, like the really high anxiety, and then I go back to feeling more like myself. (I can go for weeks or even a month now, or this last time a couple of months, without high anxiety, and then the emotional roller coaster doesn't happen. I can feel like myself all the time.)
Becoming depressed and suicidal is actually one of my Pure O obsessive worries, so you can imagine how much I freaked out when I realized that these low periods were becoming a regular part of my life with anxiety. Then the freak out just caused me more anxiety that would start the whole, overwhelming roller coaster ride all over again. I worried for a long time that I might have Bipolar Disorder because of the ups and downs I experience on a regular basis now. (My therapists both assured me that I don't have Bipolar Disorder, so I haven't been misdiagnosed a second time.)
In other words, my anxiety can make me feel like I'm all over the place emotionally, and I didn't understand that or know what to do with it. All I knew was that it freaked me out and made me feel out of control. My therapist calls it something like my pattern of getting well (I think). Now that I know that this is a pattern I will likely always live with as long as I live with anxiety, I just ride the roller coaster and hope it doesn't take a long time before I can get off of it and back to myself.
I can't really change the pattern or force myself not to have any low periods. So, I just cry when I need to cry. When that goes away I treat myself like I would treat someone else who was feeling low. I Pinterest and I watch my favorite movies. I rest. I also hang on to the fact that I know I will eventually feel better if I give myself the time I need to get there. (I also try not to give in to my obsessive worry that I'm getting depressed and I won't recover, but that is a little bit difficult.) It's apparently a pretty common thing for anxiety to directly cause mood swings or to cause so much distress that it indirectly causes mood swings, much like any other stress can make some people moody.
I'll end with this: Living with anxiety is more than just managing anxiety symptoms day-to-day. Sometimes it feels like I'm unwillingly strapped into an emotional roller coaster. It's okay to cry and be exhausted. You can't force your emotions to always be under your control. Sometimes you just have to ride it out, and that's okay. Feeling like you're riding an emotional roller coaster when you live with anxiety doesn't mean you require a new clinical diagnosis, but if you feel like something else is to blame you should definitely talk to a therapist/your doctor. You won't always feel all over the place.
My pattern is always the same as far as I have noticed. I get the really high anxiety for a few days or weeks, depending on a number of factors. Then, after the anxiety starts to drop, I get super emotional. I just want to cry, about anything and everything or for seemingly no reason at all, and that lasts for a day or two. Then, after the crying comes the low period. I just feel "blah" and mildly unhappy and exhausted. I just want to curl up and watch TV all day. The low only lasts for a few days or a week, like the really high anxiety, and then I go back to feeling more like myself. (I can go for weeks or even a month now, or this last time a couple of months, without high anxiety, and then the emotional roller coaster doesn't happen. I can feel like myself all the time.)
Becoming depressed and suicidal is actually one of my Pure O obsessive worries, so you can imagine how much I freaked out when I realized that these low periods were becoming a regular part of my life with anxiety. Then the freak out just caused me more anxiety that would start the whole, overwhelming roller coaster ride all over again. I worried for a long time that I might have Bipolar Disorder because of the ups and downs I experience on a regular basis now. (My therapists both assured me that I don't have Bipolar Disorder, so I haven't been misdiagnosed a second time.)
In other words, my anxiety can make me feel like I'm all over the place emotionally, and I didn't understand that or know what to do with it. All I knew was that it freaked me out and made me feel out of control. My therapist calls it something like my pattern of getting well (I think). Now that I know that this is a pattern I will likely always live with as long as I live with anxiety, I just ride the roller coaster and hope it doesn't take a long time before I can get off of it and back to myself.
I can't really change the pattern or force myself not to have any low periods. So, I just cry when I need to cry. When that goes away I treat myself like I would treat someone else who was feeling low. I Pinterest and I watch my favorite movies. I rest. I also hang on to the fact that I know I will eventually feel better if I give myself the time I need to get there. (I also try not to give in to my obsessive worry that I'm getting depressed and I won't recover, but that is a little bit difficult.) It's apparently a pretty common thing for anxiety to directly cause mood swings or to cause so much distress that it indirectly causes mood swings, much like any other stress can make some people moody.
I'll end with this: Living with anxiety is more than just managing anxiety symptoms day-to-day. Sometimes it feels like I'm unwillingly strapped into an emotional roller coaster. It's okay to cry and be exhausted. You can't force your emotions to always be under your control. Sometimes you just have to ride it out, and that's okay. Feeling like you're riding an emotional roller coaster when you live with anxiety doesn't mean you require a new clinical diagnosis, but if you feel like something else is to blame you should definitely talk to a therapist/your doctor. You won't always feel all over the place.
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
Hormones and Mental Health
We all hear about how pregnancy can impact our mental health because of Postpartum Depression. We all hear about how menopause can impact our mental health because a lot of women experience clinical Depression after menopause. We all hear about Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD) and how rough the couple of weeks before periods can be for some women.
The thing I don't see talked about a lot (outside of a couple women's discussion forums) is how normal monthly hormone fluctuations (your period, your lady's days, Aunt Flo, whatever you want to call it) impact an already existing mental health condition. I know that since I've been struggling with severe anxiety since last summer, my anxiety and my intrusive thoughts spike about a week, sometimes 2 weeks, before my period. I get normal PMS, and then my anxiety skyrockets on top of that. It seems like any little thing can trigger my anxiety around that time, too. I even started to wonder if I might have PMDD. I don't, but I was concerned about it until I figured out how common it was for most mental health conditions to be worse during monthly hormone fluctuations.
I was curious about this because I never knew that my mental health condition could be so closely tied to my hormones. I talked about it with my therapist, and she said it was a common complaint among females with anxiety. I read in 2 discussion forums for women that most women felt like their OCD, Anxiety, or Depression was more severe a week or two before their periods, even when they didn't have Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder.
What can you do to help when your mental health condition is so closely tied to your hormones? Well, a large number of the ladies in the discussion forums with anxiety conditions said they chose to go on birth control just to level out their hormones. If Depression is the problem when your hormones fluctuate, my therapist mentioned that doctors will usually prescribe Prozac to help. You just have to talk to your gynecologist and/or your regular doctor. Since my problem is OCD, I just take L-theanine (200mg) that my therapist suggested when my anxiety gets higher than normal before my period.
I also do some other things when my anxiety is high because of hormone fluctuations. I try to stay busy doing things I enjoy. I spend extra time practicing ukulele, and I watch people play songs on ukulele on YouTube. I talk to friends more. I try to write, even when I don't feel like writing because I'm exhausted. I read more. I watch funny shows like I Love Lucy on Hulu. (I also ate a whole bag of marshmallows over a period of a week and a half, which may be a bad thing...)
My point is that during the 2 weeks before my period, I have to double my coping efforts. I have to cope with the PMS as well as the extra high anxiety. I can't give in to the all the cravings for the extra sugar and caffeine and the junk food like I used to because that would just negatively impact my anxiety. I also can't just give into the PMS fatigue because then my anxious brain gets bored and goes haywire, so I clean things in spurts of energy between rest periods.
I'll end with this: I hadn't realized that my mental health condition could be impacted by the usual, monthly hormone fluctuations. PMS with an added mental health condition can be an overwhelming combination, and it's okay to talk to your doctor/gynecologist about something (like medication or some extra coping techniques) they think might help. It doesn't even mean that you have PMDD, but if you think you might you should talk to your doctor because PMDD has a specific treatment plan outside of your already diagnosed mental health condition.
The thing I don't see talked about a lot (outside of a couple women's discussion forums) is how normal monthly hormone fluctuations (your period, your lady's days, Aunt Flo, whatever you want to call it) impact an already existing mental health condition. I know that since I've been struggling with severe anxiety since last summer, my anxiety and my intrusive thoughts spike about a week, sometimes 2 weeks, before my period. I get normal PMS, and then my anxiety skyrockets on top of that. It seems like any little thing can trigger my anxiety around that time, too. I even started to wonder if I might have PMDD. I don't, but I was concerned about it until I figured out how common it was for most mental health conditions to be worse during monthly hormone fluctuations.
I was curious about this because I never knew that my mental health condition could be so closely tied to my hormones. I talked about it with my therapist, and she said it was a common complaint among females with anxiety. I read in 2 discussion forums for women that most women felt like their OCD, Anxiety, or Depression was more severe a week or two before their periods, even when they didn't have Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder.
What can you do to help when your mental health condition is so closely tied to your hormones? Well, a large number of the ladies in the discussion forums with anxiety conditions said they chose to go on birth control just to level out their hormones. If Depression is the problem when your hormones fluctuate, my therapist mentioned that doctors will usually prescribe Prozac to help. You just have to talk to your gynecologist and/or your regular doctor. Since my problem is OCD, I just take L-theanine (200mg) that my therapist suggested when my anxiety gets higher than normal before my period.
I also do some other things when my anxiety is high because of hormone fluctuations. I try to stay busy doing things I enjoy. I spend extra time practicing ukulele, and I watch people play songs on ukulele on YouTube. I talk to friends more. I try to write, even when I don't feel like writing because I'm exhausted. I read more. I watch funny shows like I Love Lucy on Hulu. (I also ate a whole bag of marshmallows over a period of a week and a half, which may be a bad thing...)
My point is that during the 2 weeks before my period, I have to double my coping efforts. I have to cope with the PMS as well as the extra high anxiety. I can't give in to the all the cravings for the extra sugar and caffeine and the junk food like I used to because that would just negatively impact my anxiety. I also can't just give into the PMS fatigue because then my anxious brain gets bored and goes haywire, so I clean things in spurts of energy between rest periods.
I'll end with this: I hadn't realized that my mental health condition could be impacted by the usual, monthly hormone fluctuations. PMS with an added mental health condition can be an overwhelming combination, and it's okay to talk to your doctor/gynecologist about something (like medication or some extra coping techniques) they think might help. It doesn't even mean that you have PMDD, but if you think you might you should talk to your doctor because PMDD has a specific treatment plan outside of your already diagnosed mental health condition.
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
Natural Remedies to Help Anxiety
My therapist and I recently discussed medication, and we landed on my unwillingness to try them because of the side effects that come with certain medications (feeling suicidal, the possibility of worsened intrusive thoughts, more anxiety). I told her that if medications didn't have side effects like that I would be willing to try them. (As in, either the medication works or you don't get anything from it at all is similar to what I told my therapist.) This led her to bring up the topic of natural remedies that have proven effective in managing anxiety symptoms. She mentioned 1 supplement and 2 herbal remedies that could help me with no nasty side effects.
1. L-Theanine (particularly the kind made with Suntheanine): This is an herbal remedy. L-Theanine is found in green and black teas. I consider this one to be the safest because it doesn't have any negative side effects. I ordered myself a bottle of capsules from Amazon. 100mg isn't strong enough to lower my anxiety, so the next time I try it I'll try 200mg. It does make me groggy, but I can still function when I take it. (I also read a study that 200mg of L-Theanine worked better than Xanax. I'll provide a link to that information at the bottom.)
2. Valerian Root: This is also one of the herbal remedies that my therapist mentioned during our session. Valerian is a sedative, and it is often used to treat insomnia, but it can also reduce anxiety. (You shouldn't take it if you take other things that make you drowsy.) I haven't tried this one, and I don't intend to try it since it is a sedative. I need to function normally throughout the day to write.
3. GABA: GABA occurs naturally in our brains. L-Theanine (see above) boosts GABA in your brain, which makes you calmer. The results on taking a GABA supplement for anxiety are sort of sketchy. It's even suggested that it might be better to try L-Theanine or Magnesium, and some B vitamins to help with GABA without having to take a straight GABA supplement. (Link below, at the end of this post.)
I know there are more natural remedies for anxiety floating around out there, and I would be interested to hear more about some of those if any of my readers have any experience with things I didn't list here. I listed these 3 because they were the ones that I discussed with my therapist and that we researched a little during my session.
If you feel like you need some help managing anxiety symptoms, but you don't want to take any psychoactive drugs, these natural herbal remedies and supplements might be another great option. You should consult with your doctor and/or therapist and do plenty of research before you try any herbal remedy or supplement.
I'll end with this: If you don't like the idea of taking medications just yet or you want to save that as a last resort, trying out some herbal remedies and supplements (with the approval of your therapist or doctor) might be an option to try. These remedies and supplements don't have the nasty side effects that make medications so hard to tolerate, but they may not help everyone. Everyone's brain and anxiety is different, and may respond differently to any of these alternative treatments.
Links:
1. L-Theanine: http://www.lifeextension.com/magazine/2007/8/report_stress_anxiety/page-02
2. GABA: http://overcomingyouranxiety.net/naturalanxietyremedies/gaba-for-anxiety/
1. L-Theanine (particularly the kind made with Suntheanine): This is an herbal remedy. L-Theanine is found in green and black teas. I consider this one to be the safest because it doesn't have any negative side effects. I ordered myself a bottle of capsules from Amazon. 100mg isn't strong enough to lower my anxiety, so the next time I try it I'll try 200mg. It does make me groggy, but I can still function when I take it. (I also read a study that 200mg of L-Theanine worked better than Xanax. I'll provide a link to that information at the bottom.)
2. Valerian Root: This is also one of the herbal remedies that my therapist mentioned during our session. Valerian is a sedative, and it is often used to treat insomnia, but it can also reduce anxiety. (You shouldn't take it if you take other things that make you drowsy.) I haven't tried this one, and I don't intend to try it since it is a sedative. I need to function normally throughout the day to write.
3. GABA: GABA occurs naturally in our brains. L-Theanine (see above) boosts GABA in your brain, which makes you calmer. The results on taking a GABA supplement for anxiety are sort of sketchy. It's even suggested that it might be better to try L-Theanine or Magnesium, and some B vitamins to help with GABA without having to take a straight GABA supplement. (Link below, at the end of this post.)
I know there are more natural remedies for anxiety floating around out there, and I would be interested to hear more about some of those if any of my readers have any experience with things I didn't list here. I listed these 3 because they were the ones that I discussed with my therapist and that we researched a little during my session.
If you feel like you need some help managing anxiety symptoms, but you don't want to take any psychoactive drugs, these natural herbal remedies and supplements might be another great option. You should consult with your doctor and/or therapist and do plenty of research before you try any herbal remedy or supplement.
I'll end with this: If you don't like the idea of taking medications just yet or you want to save that as a last resort, trying out some herbal remedies and supplements (with the approval of your therapist or doctor) might be an option to try. These remedies and supplements don't have the nasty side effects that make medications so hard to tolerate, but they may not help everyone. Everyone's brain and anxiety is different, and may respond differently to any of these alternative treatments.
Links:
1. L-Theanine: http://www.lifeextension.com/magazine/2007/8/report_stress_anxiety/page-02
2. GABA: http://overcomingyouranxiety.net/naturalanxietyremedies/gaba-for-anxiety/
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Labeled: One Year Later
I'm coming up on the one-year anniversary of my Primarily Obsessional OCD diagnosis this weekend (on October 2nd). I still remember how I felt that day when the therapist I was working with at the time said the words Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. I felt mixed emotions. On the one hand, I was relieved because we had figured out the real problem, and that meant we could actually treat it. On the other hand, I felt scared of the OCD diagnosis, and I felt ashamed because I felt like having OCD meant I was crazy or that something was really wrong with me. A weight had been lifted that I had been carrying for years, but it was quickly replaced with a different weight that felt just as heavy.
A year ago, I didn't want anyone to know that I had been diagnosed with Pure O. I was afraid people's opinions of me would suddenly change or that they wouldn't see me for who I really was and who I wanted to be anymore. I felt like someone had slapped a Post-It on my forehead, and that the Post-It was all everyone was going to be able to see. I knew about the stigma associated with mental illnesses like OCD, and I also knew that OCD was ranked pretty highly on the list of most debilitating mental health conditions. I was afraid, then, when I had to come face-to-face with all those things.
I even had a little bit of a freak out. What if I didn't get better? What if this got in the way of my writing and getting published? What if no one wanted to date me because of the OCD? What if someone did want to date me and I let the OCD and anxiety ruin it? Did I still want to have children knowing that I could pass on the chemical imbalance in my brain that had made my life a silent Hell for so long? For some reason these concerns didn't hit me when I was diagnosed with Panic Disorder, but they hit me like speeding bullets when the OCD diagnosis came.
Now, a year later, I'm in a different place. I'm always aware of my OCD, but it doesn't feel as heavy as it felt a year ago. I'm not terrified of the OCD anymore because I know how my OCD works. I don't feel like I still have the Post-It slapped on my forehead, and I've managed to make some new friends post-diagnosis that don't care that I have OCD. I'm getting back to myself now, after a long and hard battle to hang on to myself with the OCD at its worst. I don't feel crazy (most days), and I don't feel like something is really wrong with me anymore. I realized that I'm just an imperfect human, and I'm no longer ashamed of that.
Over the past year, I have also stopped hiding my OCD. I talk about mental health and therapy. I talk about OCD with people when they ask. I mention the Pure O and therapy, if someone asks or brings up mental health, just like I would tell them about a weather report. I treat it like any other topic of conversation, and I mostly don't feel embarrassed about it anymore. (I haven't been embarrassed to talk about my Cerebral Palsy in quite some time, so I don't see why I needed to treat my mental health any differently.) Although, I don't discuss my obsessions with people that aren't my therapist or my mother, but I can talk about obsessions in a general sense if someone asks about them.
A lot of my questions have been answered over the past year. I'm getting better. The anxiety did get in the way of my writing over the last year, but I have recently been able to start writing the way I was able to write before the anxiety disorder. I still wanted to have children after I realized that I could manage my mental health condition with the right tools and the right help. (Maybe my freak out was a little blown out of proportion now that I look back on it.)
A year ago, I felt like being diagnosed with OCD was a HUGE deal, and I was afraid that it was going to impact every area of my life in a negative way. My mom even says that dealing with OCD on a daily basis is "something major". Now, I realized that being diagnosed with OCD was a big deal in some ways, but that in other ways it wasn't a big deal. It's a big deal in the sense that it is a chronic illness, and I had to make lifestyle (and cognitive) changes in order to manage it. It isn't a big deal in the sense that I've realized that it doesn't define who I am or what I can do with my life, and it hasn't changed who I am as a person.
I'll end with this: I wasn't sure I would ever reach this point in living with my OCD. I thought I might lose myself somewhere along the way, and sometimes I felt like I did lose myself in the battles with my mental health condition. Sometimes, all I could see was the label I felt I'd been given, but today, I can see more in myself than just what I struggle with. Coping with the diagnosis of a mental health condition, like any other chronic health condition, can be hard at first, but it gets easier over time. It's an adjustment, and it's okay to be scared. It might feel like your life is never going to be the same again, but that isn't exactly true. I'm surprised at how close to my normal that my life feels at this moment, a year after a diagnosis that I was afraid would change everything.
A year ago, I didn't want anyone to know that I had been diagnosed with Pure O. I was afraid people's opinions of me would suddenly change or that they wouldn't see me for who I really was and who I wanted to be anymore. I felt like someone had slapped a Post-It on my forehead, and that the Post-It was all everyone was going to be able to see. I knew about the stigma associated with mental illnesses like OCD, and I also knew that OCD was ranked pretty highly on the list of most debilitating mental health conditions. I was afraid, then, when I had to come face-to-face with all those things.
I even had a little bit of a freak out. What if I didn't get better? What if this got in the way of my writing and getting published? What if no one wanted to date me because of the OCD? What if someone did want to date me and I let the OCD and anxiety ruin it? Did I still want to have children knowing that I could pass on the chemical imbalance in my brain that had made my life a silent Hell for so long? For some reason these concerns didn't hit me when I was diagnosed with Panic Disorder, but they hit me like speeding bullets when the OCD diagnosis came.
Now, a year later, I'm in a different place. I'm always aware of my OCD, but it doesn't feel as heavy as it felt a year ago. I'm not terrified of the OCD anymore because I know how my OCD works. I don't feel like I still have the Post-It slapped on my forehead, and I've managed to make some new friends post-diagnosis that don't care that I have OCD. I'm getting back to myself now, after a long and hard battle to hang on to myself with the OCD at its worst. I don't feel crazy (most days), and I don't feel like something is really wrong with me anymore. I realized that I'm just an imperfect human, and I'm no longer ashamed of that.
Over the past year, I have also stopped hiding my OCD. I talk about mental health and therapy. I talk about OCD with people when they ask. I mention the Pure O and therapy, if someone asks or brings up mental health, just like I would tell them about a weather report. I treat it like any other topic of conversation, and I mostly don't feel embarrassed about it anymore. (I haven't been embarrassed to talk about my Cerebral Palsy in quite some time, so I don't see why I needed to treat my mental health any differently.) Although, I don't discuss my obsessions with people that aren't my therapist or my mother, but I can talk about obsessions in a general sense if someone asks about them.
A lot of my questions have been answered over the past year. I'm getting better. The anxiety did get in the way of my writing over the last year, but I have recently been able to start writing the way I was able to write before the anxiety disorder. I still wanted to have children after I realized that I could manage my mental health condition with the right tools and the right help. (Maybe my freak out was a little blown out of proportion now that I look back on it.)
A year ago, I felt like being diagnosed with OCD was a HUGE deal, and I was afraid that it was going to impact every area of my life in a negative way. My mom even says that dealing with OCD on a daily basis is "something major". Now, I realized that being diagnosed with OCD was a big deal in some ways, but that in other ways it wasn't a big deal. It's a big deal in the sense that it is a chronic illness, and I had to make lifestyle (and cognitive) changes in order to manage it. It isn't a big deal in the sense that I've realized that it doesn't define who I am or what I can do with my life, and it hasn't changed who I am as a person.
I'll end with this: I wasn't sure I would ever reach this point in living with my OCD. I thought I might lose myself somewhere along the way, and sometimes I felt like I did lose myself in the battles with my mental health condition. Sometimes, all I could see was the label I felt I'd been given, but today, I can see more in myself than just what I struggle with. Coping with the diagnosis of a mental health condition, like any other chronic health condition, can be hard at first, but it gets easier over time. It's an adjustment, and it's okay to be scared. It might feel like your life is never going to be the same again, but that isn't exactly true. I'm surprised at how close to my normal that my life feels at this moment, a year after a diagnosis that I was afraid would change everything.
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Another Ah-Ha! Moment
I usually contribute most of my anxiety to my OCD without looking too deep to see if there might be another problem underneath the OCD. Sometimes I contribute my unease to free floating anxiety that I can't explain. I thought it was impossible to really figure out the things that seemed to trigger my OCD to flare up randomly when I was in the middle of laughing at something or otherwise experiencing life as an average human.
Then I noticed that, since I added an actual Mindfulness meditation to my daily routine four weeks ago, that it has become easier for me to take a step back and objectively observe my anxiety. I have found it easier to distance myself from my own mind in the past few weeks (with the exception of those days when my anxiety reaches panic attack level). Distancing myself and being objective has also enabled me to find my biggest trigger for my OCD.
Mindfulness meditation, in the short 4 weeks that I've been practicing every day, has also made me much more observant of my own reactions to things. As a result of that new awareness, I noticed that any time that I wasn't in a neutral or content emotional state, the volume would get turned up on my intrusive thoughts. If I got sad or frustrated or stressed or scared or even too happy, my intrusive thoughts would swirl in like a tornado. I even noticed when I had a brief moment of feeling inadequate over the past week the OCD flared up. As long as I was content or not feeling much of anything (unless confronted with my religious or other triggers in my external environment) my mind was relatively quiet.
This was another grand Ah-Ha! moment for me. I understood a little bit better. This moment of realization also drove home the point that I'm REALLY not good with all the feel-y things. I talked to my therapist about it, and she seems to think it makes sense considering I've spent the majority of my life attempting to shut down my feelings. (Why did I think that was a good idea?)
This latest realization has also changed the way I deal with my anxiety a little bit more. In a way, since its easy to spot my triggers, I am more prepared to deal with the free floating anxiety and the OCD. Now, when I notice that my intrusive thoughts are more frequent than usual, or if I notice extra anxiety hanging around when I haven't noticed any triggers in the environment, I stop and take a step back. I ask myself, "What am I feeling that might make this worse right now?" Then I take a breath, and I try accept the feeling and actually let myself feel it. It seems that once I become open to feeling something my mind quiets down.
Now, as a result of this new realization, I'm also more prepared to deal with the OCD spikes when they happen. I sort of expect them when I'm in a situation that I know might cause me to feel sad or frightened or stressed or too happy. (As I typed that sentence, I couldn't help but to think about how poorly I must have dealt with life up to this point.) When I expect them, it becomes easier to really believe that it is just an anxiety disorder, and I can brush them off. It's a relief any time I avoid the rumination that can take up hours or even days of my time.
I'll end with this: I never thought feeling things was so important, and I have realized that was a mistake. Hiding feelings, muting them, or convincing yourself that you're too logical for feelings can have long term, damaging consequences. Accepting all the feelings and letting yourself feel them really is the best way to deal with them. If you're distress intolerant like me, I encourage you to check out Mindfulness and try it out.
Then I noticed that, since I added an actual Mindfulness meditation to my daily routine four weeks ago, that it has become easier for me to take a step back and objectively observe my anxiety. I have found it easier to distance myself from my own mind in the past few weeks (with the exception of those days when my anxiety reaches panic attack level). Distancing myself and being objective has also enabled me to find my biggest trigger for my OCD.
Mindfulness meditation, in the short 4 weeks that I've been practicing every day, has also made me much more observant of my own reactions to things. As a result of that new awareness, I noticed that any time that I wasn't in a neutral or content emotional state, the volume would get turned up on my intrusive thoughts. If I got sad or frustrated or stressed or scared or even too happy, my intrusive thoughts would swirl in like a tornado. I even noticed when I had a brief moment of feeling inadequate over the past week the OCD flared up. As long as I was content or not feeling much of anything (unless confronted with my religious or other triggers in my external environment) my mind was relatively quiet.
This was another grand Ah-Ha! moment for me. I understood a little bit better. This moment of realization also drove home the point that I'm REALLY not good with all the feel-y things. I talked to my therapist about it, and she seems to think it makes sense considering I've spent the majority of my life attempting to shut down my feelings. (Why did I think that was a good idea?)
This latest realization has also changed the way I deal with my anxiety a little bit more. In a way, since its easy to spot my triggers, I am more prepared to deal with the free floating anxiety and the OCD. Now, when I notice that my intrusive thoughts are more frequent than usual, or if I notice extra anxiety hanging around when I haven't noticed any triggers in the environment, I stop and take a step back. I ask myself, "What am I feeling that might make this worse right now?" Then I take a breath, and I try accept the feeling and actually let myself feel it. It seems that once I become open to feeling something my mind quiets down.
Now, as a result of this new realization, I'm also more prepared to deal with the OCD spikes when they happen. I sort of expect them when I'm in a situation that I know might cause me to feel sad or frightened or stressed or too happy. (As I typed that sentence, I couldn't help but to think about how poorly I must have dealt with life up to this point.) When I expect them, it becomes easier to really believe that it is just an anxiety disorder, and I can brush them off. It's a relief any time I avoid the rumination that can take up hours or even days of my time.
I'll end with this: I never thought feeling things was so important, and I have realized that was a mistake. Hiding feelings, muting them, or convincing yourself that you're too logical for feelings can have long term, damaging consequences. Accepting all the feelings and letting yourself feel them really is the best way to deal with them. If you're distress intolerant like me, I encourage you to check out Mindfulness and try it out.
Wednesday, September 14, 2016
On Being Highly Sensitive
I've always felt like I was weird, and not in a good way, like something was wrong with me. I felt like I didn't handle things like disappointment, the death of pets or loved ones, or even something as simple as loud noises and strong smells as well as everyone else around me. I felt like I was too sensitive to things at best, and I felt like I was overdramatic at worst. I hated that the smallest things could make me cry, make me feel so overwhelmed that I needed to shut down, make me anxious, or make me feel terribly sad. I hated that it felt like I couldn't control my own emotions sometimes. Not only did I hate it, but feeling things so strongly tended to freak me out so that I thought I needed to shut it down to be "normal" and sometimes even to survive.
Then my second therapist had me do some research on Highly Sensitive People. It turns out that I'm not actually weird, too sensitive, or overdramatic. I'm just a Highly Sensitive Person, like around fifteen to twenty percent of the general population. It's not a clinical sort of thing. I don't need fixing because of it. Being a Highly Sensitive Person is just an innate trait, and some research suggests that it may be genetic, (Aron, 2016). (My mom is also a Highly Sensitive Person, and so was my grandmother.)
I know I've mentioned that I am a Highly Sensitive Person in previous blog posts, but it occurred to me that not many people may know what that really means. Basically, being highly sensitive means that I process things like my emotions and my external environment on a deeper cognitive level. That also means that because I process things on a deeper level, I feel emotions more intensely, and I react to things like being startled or repeated loud noises more intensely than someone who isn't a Highly Sensitive Person. (I'm jumpy, like a cat...) I can also become overstimulated quickly by loud environments, strong smells, lights that are too bright, and even just too many people talking at once while I'm trying to pay attention. I may also get overwhelmed and become anxious when I have too much to do in a rushed timeframe, which is why I was never a procrastinator in school. (That's called sensory overload, and it happens with anxiety disorders as well.) (Aron, 2016).
What else does being a Highly Sensitive Person mean? It also means that I am more susceptible to experience an anxiety disorder and/or depression, according to a Psychology Today post. I also mentioned in a previous post that I also muted my feelings whenever possible, which may have also contributed to my development of Pure OCD. That makes so much more sense now that I understand that I feel things more intensely. Not all Highly Sensitive People will develop an anxiety disorder or depression, but it does seem worth knowing that being Highly Sensitive might make someone more susceptible to something like that.
Why do I think it's important that I recognize that I am a Highly Sensitive Person? Because I felt like an overdramatic weakling, like I was too sensitive to deal with normal events before I realized that it was just an innate trait that I have. That was an unpleasant feeling. Realizing that I am a Highly Sensitive Person has also helped me to be more accepting of myself and my feelings. Even just understanding why I'm feeling something in a certain way, and why I have difficulty shaking off my feelings the way everyone else seems to, has decreased my anxiety related to my emotional state.
I'll end with this: We live in a culture that tends to prize developing a thick outer skin instead of sensitivity, but that definitely doesn't mean that being a Highly Sensitive Person is bad thing. Getting to know and understand yourself is super important, even if you aren't trying to learn to deal with a mental health condition, because you have to know and understand yourself before you can accept yourself. If you're interested in learning more about Highly Sensitive People, or if you think you might be a Highly Sensitive Person, I encourage you to check out the work of Elaine Aron online or to buy her book on Amazon. You can even take a self test.
Sources:
1. Aron, E. N. (2016). Retrieved from http://hsperson.com/
2. https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/sense-and-sensitivity/201210/coping-anxiety-hsp
Then my second therapist had me do some research on Highly Sensitive People. It turns out that I'm not actually weird, too sensitive, or overdramatic. I'm just a Highly Sensitive Person, like around fifteen to twenty percent of the general population. It's not a clinical sort of thing. I don't need fixing because of it. Being a Highly Sensitive Person is just an innate trait, and some research suggests that it may be genetic, (Aron, 2016). (My mom is also a Highly Sensitive Person, and so was my grandmother.)
I know I've mentioned that I am a Highly Sensitive Person in previous blog posts, but it occurred to me that not many people may know what that really means. Basically, being highly sensitive means that I process things like my emotions and my external environment on a deeper cognitive level. That also means that because I process things on a deeper level, I feel emotions more intensely, and I react to things like being startled or repeated loud noises more intensely than someone who isn't a Highly Sensitive Person. (I'm jumpy, like a cat...) I can also become overstimulated quickly by loud environments, strong smells, lights that are too bright, and even just too many people talking at once while I'm trying to pay attention. I may also get overwhelmed and become anxious when I have too much to do in a rushed timeframe, which is why I was never a procrastinator in school. (That's called sensory overload, and it happens with anxiety disorders as well.) (Aron, 2016).
What else does being a Highly Sensitive Person mean? It also means that I am more susceptible to experience an anxiety disorder and/or depression, according to a Psychology Today post. I also mentioned in a previous post that I also muted my feelings whenever possible, which may have also contributed to my development of Pure OCD. That makes so much more sense now that I understand that I feel things more intensely. Not all Highly Sensitive People will develop an anxiety disorder or depression, but it does seem worth knowing that being Highly Sensitive might make someone more susceptible to something like that.
Why do I think it's important that I recognize that I am a Highly Sensitive Person? Because I felt like an overdramatic weakling, like I was too sensitive to deal with normal events before I realized that it was just an innate trait that I have. That was an unpleasant feeling. Realizing that I am a Highly Sensitive Person has also helped me to be more accepting of myself and my feelings. Even just understanding why I'm feeling something in a certain way, and why I have difficulty shaking off my feelings the way everyone else seems to, has decreased my anxiety related to my emotional state.
I'll end with this: We live in a culture that tends to prize developing a thick outer skin instead of sensitivity, but that definitely doesn't mean that being a Highly Sensitive Person is bad thing. Getting to know and understand yourself is super important, even if you aren't trying to learn to deal with a mental health condition, because you have to know and understand yourself before you can accept yourself. If you're interested in learning more about Highly Sensitive People, or if you think you might be a Highly Sensitive Person, I encourage you to check out the work of Elaine Aron online or to buy her book on Amazon. You can even take a self test.
Sources:
1. Aron, E. N. (2016). Retrieved from http://hsperson.com/
2. https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/sense-and-sensitivity/201210/coping-anxiety-hsp
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