A Day In My Life

     I knew for a long time that I had obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) from shows that I had seen on television and things that I had read.   What I didn't know was that OCD is an anxiety disorder.  Anxiety is what tells our body that danger is near, and all of us have some level of anxiety over day to day concerns at some time or another.  In a person with OCD, our body alerts us to danger at times that it  shouldn't.  OCD tends to run in families, and my understanding of it is that the tendency toward OCD can be inherited, having to do with levels of the brain chemical serotonin, but the actual disorder cannot.  It can also be brought on by traumatic experiences.  Obsessions are recurrent thoughts that cause anxiety.  Common obsessions are dirt, germs, and orderliness.  These obsessive thoughts cause us to perform compulsions in an attempt to relieve anxiety, but the anxiety is only temporarily relieved, so the compulsive behavior has to be continually repeated.  Common compulsions are hand washing, checking, and cleaning. 

  I have suffered from OCD since I was about 10 yrs. old, but it did not become debilitating until about the age of 18, and over the years, it has manifested itself in different ways.   When I was young, I mainly obsessed with having everything "just so" and would order and arrange things.  With school work, I would start papers over and over again, because I didn't want to cross things out or erase things.  In high school, my grooming rituals kicked in..  I was obsessed with my appearance, and I spent hours getting ready for the day.   Although these things could be distressing, my social anxiety was much more of a problem for me then, in respects to functioning, than my OCD was.  As I said, at the age of 18, my OCD became  debilitating.  I had checking compulsions at one time, having to make sure the stove was off, the doors were locked etc., doing these things again and again.   By far, though, the cleaning and grooming rituals have been the most pervasive.  I am obsessed with germs, appearance, symmetry, bad thoughts, religious obsessions, and fears of illnesses.   The compulsions I perform to relieve my anxiety are cleaning, grooming, ordering and arranging things "just so", counting, and  praying.    Even though I know it is not reasonable to continually perform these tasks it is still very difficult  for me to stop.  I am a perfectionist and extremely conscientious, as most people with OCD are, and because of that, my OCD bleeds into almost every area of my life.   I experience physical symptoms, too, that can be very distressing.  Palpitations, chest pain, dizziness, sweating, nausea, and numbness and tingling.  These can not only be frightening, but embarrassing as well. 

My OCD, social phobia, and agoraphobia have caused me to experience intense fears and  to avoid many situations.   At times, I couldn't go to the grocery store,  a mall, or any place alone.   Even things that seem of little significance such as making a phone call or going to a teller machine caused me great anxiety and fear.   As I nurtured the fear, it grew into bouts of agoraphobia and kept me from leaving the house at all.  Before seeking help, these disorders greatly hampered my life and kept me from doing many things that I would have liked to have done.   I felt so helpless and depressed at times.  At first, I never sought help because I thought it was just the way I was.   The response I got from  family members and close friends, regarding my OCD was that they  seemed to find my OCD comical.   Of course, they never really knew to what extent I was suffering, and because my OCD manifested itself mostly in cleaning and grooming rituals, they would say things like, "So, you're house is extremely clean and in immaculate order; what's the problem?"   They found it comical when I would empty the trash can because of one piece of trash was in it, or do the laundry, which consisted of one or two garments, or when they would see me pick up things immediately if they were laid out of place, or pick up the most minute piece of fuzz up off the carpet.  My constant cleaning was construed as me being a "neat freak", but it was so much more than that, and I was suffering immensely.  My husband and daughters did know how distressed I was and definitely suffered too because of my disorder, but seeking mental health help was discouraged, for some of the same reasons many other people don't seek help; it is frowned upon....there is such a  stigma attached to mental health issues. You're considered weak and crazy, and it's embarrassing not only for you, but your family members.  Another critical thing that kept me from seeking help was the fact that, as a Christian, I felt that I was supposed to "have it all together."  

This poem tells of my  battle with OCD.  It truly expresses the bondage and suffering that can go along with this disorder, not only for me, but for my family members as well.

A Day in My Life

Cleaning the bathroom, I shine all the chrome,
Killing the germs, with my scrubbing bubbles foam.
No smudge or smear, can be left on the glass,
Just not acceptable, considered no class.

I step back to check the mirror from every angle,
 And even up the towels, from the bars where they dangle.
The ceramic tile, reflects my round face, 
Two bathrooms to go, must keep up the pace.

Fluffing the throw rugs, as I exit the room,
But have to go pee, so back in I zoom.
                Now once again, I must fluff all the rugs,              
The footprints I’ve left, have just got me bugged.

Finally, I may now depart, off to the next bathroom,
Where my detailing will start. I repeat these rituals,
Till all bathrooms are clean, but hurrying and hoping,
Some sun I might glean. 

Dusting and polishing every nook and cranny, 
Hope this will take some weight off my fanny.
Straighten the bedspread, pick lint off the rug,
Vacuum the bedroom, give the bedspread a tug,

No footprints left as I back out the room,
But the bedspread still crooked, so back in I zoom.
To straighten the bedspread and get it just right,
Much time has passed, but oh, what a sight!

Now I must vacuum the room once again,
To make it just perfect, and neat as a pin.
                     From my room, to Tanya’s, then Teisha’s I go.                  
Repeating these rituals, and frustrated so.

But downstairs, there’s still so much I must do,
Vacuuming, dusting and straightening too.
Then a phone call, from a dear friend,
Asking for time, with me to spend.

          But of course, accepting an invite to lunch,      
Would put my housecleaning rituals, in a time crunch
So, "Not today," I must reply,
But sadly feeling, life’s passing me by.

A slave to these rituals, day after day,
Someone, please help me, please, help me, I pray.
Aligning and ordering, to get things just right,
             So everything’s perfect, by the end of the night.         

No lint balls or dust balls, anywhere to be found,
No specks on the carpet, no laundry around.
The floors have all been washed and waxed,
Now energy’s fading, my body’s been taxed.

Cleaning frustratingly, on and on,
The clock keeps ticking, the sun almost gone.
And tomorrow I’ll rise and do it all again,
The battle keeps raging, but I’m determined to win.

In come my husband and girls from their day,
Home to the showroom, or museum, as they say.
Worried that they might mess something up,
I watch every move, and follow behind like a pup.

The home and safe haven, I thought I had made,
Has now become prison, the foundation is laid.
Now undoing this structure, brick by brick,
Will take some work, and a little trick.

I call this OCD, problem I have,
"High Standards" and "Protector," they’re my little lads.
My goal will be, to lovingly train,
These unruly children, that drive me insane.
I’ll love them tenderly, but keep them in line,
And when they step out, I’ll train them to mind!