Lovely little creature

It happens suddenly. The catalyst can be anything–no matter how innocuous.

For someone like Caitlin Doughty, the trigger was gravely serious. Caitlin is a well-known mortician in the funeral industry. She is also the woman of my dreams. She has a lovely voice. She is silly and funny, I want her to be my mommy. Unfortunately, I am not sure if she would give me a chance because I have no clue if she is gay or into women. Even if she were, I have no idea if she is open to the idea of being in a relationship or dating. This whole train of thought is pointless, anyways, because I have a boyfriend.

In her memoir, Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, Caitlin recalls an event from her childhood in which she witnessed a small girl fall to her death at the mall. This event brought the concepts of life and mortality to the forefront of her mind. She began to obsess over it, and engaged in various rituals in hopes of keeping any misfortune at bay.

The inciting event for Chrissie Hodges happened in elementary school, when a classmate vomited beside her. Chrissie was overwhelmed with feelings of anxiety, disgust, and horror from the very moment she realized this classmate was sick, all the way up until forever. Because OCD cannot be cured.

Why didn’t anyone else care as much as I did? Why do i care so much?

Hodges, Chrissie–Pure OCD: the invisible side of obsessive-compulsive disorder, 2017. This memoir was incredibly relatable to me. Her thoughts and feelings were strikingly similar to my own growing up.

Intrusive thoughts happens to everyone. You might be driving in the car and think “I could totally veer into that woman with the stroller if I wanted”, or “I could run and jump out of that window right now”. And it is easy to laugh or shrug off these thoughts. “Hehe, well that was silly!” and move on.

But when you have OCD, you latch onto and obsess over these thoughts. There must be a reason.

That’s horrible! Why would I even think of that? What does this mean? What does this say about me? Do I want to hurt people? Does this mean I am dangerous?

It goes on and on. These thoughts can latch onto many themes, such as religion, hygiene, contamination, sexuality, and so on.

Naturally, obsessing over these thoughts day in and day out causes much stress and anxiety. It is exhausting to mull over the thoughts of whether your pen has come into contact with any fungus recently. Of whether or not you could have prevented your dog’s by praying more. Or whether or not you may actually be a pedophile because every day a new celebrity is being outed as a groomer.

It is exhausting, but you must do it. You need to do it because you need to find a reason. You have to come up with an answer that will ease everything and put your mind to rest. but there is no answer. our brains are too stupid (and sick) to understand or accept this.

When you are at your wits-end with all of these thoughts, you are apt to engage in some pretty ridiculous or bizarre behaviors to self-soothe or gain reassurance. It’s like someone who is stricken by grief and at the edge of despair. Those are the people who may feel desperate enough to seek reassurance and closure from mystics or psychics. Logically, most people understand these psychics are blowing smoke, and that nothing valuable can be gained from these grifters. But to the victims? It is exactly what they feel is needed in the moment. No matter how fantastical or ridiculous it may be, the reassurance means everything.

These obsessions don’t need to be focused on thoughts, necessarily. Sometimes, it’s based on feeling. You feel incredibly icky or uncomfortable–like you are becoming too antsy and you are going to explode or cry or die unless you allow yourself to crack your knuckles, or peel that scab, or clear your throat 3 times, or twirl around to position your body the right way because otherwise you feel tangled.

For creatures such as I, religious scrupulosity was a major source of agony. I was sent to a summer camp as a child to partake in recreational activities. It was a jesus camp. My parents paid that fact no mind, because to them, it was simply a free/cheap source of entertainment for their children.

There were indeed a lot of fun activities to enjoy, but the moment the children arrived, the counselors and staff delivered a ton of impassioned speeches about God, his kingdom, and entry to the gates of heaven.

It stressed me the hell out.

I have to be good or else I go to hell? Forever? Eternal damnation? That is so scary and serious! Why has no one ever mentioned this to me before? Why hadn’t my parents or any other adults in my life stressed the importance of this before?

I have to pray and apologize for all of my sins, but I can’t remember every sin I’ve ever done. If I forget to acknowledge a sin, I will go to hell. What even counts as a sin? Do you have to be aware? Young children may cry and annoy others–does that count as a sin? Can babies commit sins? My little sister is too young to comprehend any of this. I have to pray on her behalf too.

As you can see, I was severely burdened with the enormous weight of ensuring that my life–as well as those of my siblings–would be salvaged enough to escape a sentence of eternal damnation,

at the ripe age of child.