Super bad at this blogging crap! I used to do it every day!
Moving in is pretty much over with the exception of actually putting the bed frame in [we have the mattress down but we can’t take the bed out of my mother in laws until she can get a new bed so she has somewhere to sleep.] We got a cat and she kicks ass, although she has just done the most foul smelling toilet business and I think I wanna throw up. Yuck! Life is going pretty good to be honest!
I’m a little apprehensive about tomorrow. I changed Drs because my husbands doctor is fantastic with mental health and is closer to the new place. As I’ve mentioned before I have a lot of issues going on that I need help with but developed a fear of getting help because of it which is a little odd but hey ho. Things with that kinda started getting out of hand to the point I started refusing to go outside because I was terrified of large crowds which isn’t a rut I want to start getting into. I’m terrible booking appointments because just the thought of it sets off panic attacks so I constantly put it off. So my husband thankfully booked one for me with the Dr who actually knows a little about the case already and specifically requested I see her because of it. Now I have the appointment tomorrow which is great because I have to go now, no more putting it off. But I’m pretty scared I won’t lie. There will be awkward silences and tears and over zealous apologising for said tears. But it’s a step further than before so lets just see shall we?
On other medical related notes, had to stay in hospital for 2 days for video telemetry. Don’t get the results till June. I’m not quite sure what will be noted there if anything. Most boring experience ever. Seriously the furthest I could go was the bathroom, yuck.
Fingers crossed that gets sorted soon!
Apologies for being AWOL from here recently, I’ve had a lot of appointments and things to deal with. My last post touched briefly on this but I wasn’t comfortable saying what I meant just yet. But I can now.
After going to the Dr finally and getting some things in gear after a referral, I was recently diagnosed with Violent Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I’ve spent near enough to 16 years dealing with a lot of violent things in my head that I never understood and never wanted to bring up for fear of being punished or locked away somewhere. I never realised until recently just how common this condition is. I’d obviously heard of OCD, but I never thought of these images and thoughts that I was having for so long as OCD. After finally getting a diagnosis and referral for the correct treatment, I’m finally starting to understand my illness and the things that it brought about in the past without my even thinking about it.
I’ve also had to struggle with an eating disorder for a greater part of my teens and adulthood. Little did I realise, this was a result of an obsessive compulsion. It was a difficult time that I had absolutely no control over. The situation affected me and my sister badly, but it was out of our control. Because of this I started to control my eating habits. I felt a sense of purpose at finally having something to control in my life, that was all mine and no-one else could change that for me. So I started to eat very little. I lost weight at rapid paces and was hospitalised so many times it affected school and college for me because I was in a hospital bed more often than a classroom. I didn’t like the weight loss or the illnesses that losing weight brought with it, but I loved the control I had at being able to have a choice in life at that time.
Because I hadn’t been diagnosed with OCD back then, I didn’t even recognise what I was doing as a compulsive habit until it was explained to me later.
The weight loss occurred around the same time as these intrusive thoughts started. I didn’t find them too distressing at first because they were just myself taking out aggression on the main problem in life at that time, I thought that was a perfectly acceptable thought given the circumstances. But then it started to get worse. The aggression turned to vile slaughter and the people involved in these acts in my head didn’t even have faces anymore. They were strangers, animals, children even. My eating habits got worse as these thoughts got worse because they were another thing that I couldn’t control and they were repulsive. I kept them quiet from even my oldest friend because I was worried she would think I was insane and disown me.
It’s only in the last few months that it has become so bad that I had no choice but to seek help. I didn’t sleep for days, I clawed at my skin, I pulled out my hair. It was hard for everyone around me not to notice what this was doing so I had to do something about it.
I’ve started the road to treatment, being put on a waiting list for CBT and being given a strategy booklet on coping with intrusive thoughts brought on by this kind of OCD. I finally told my friend about what had been happening all of these years, only to find that she is actually extremely supportive and I’m not the only person she knows who suffers this which was a relief in itself. Not that I would want her friend to suffer this of course, but it was a relief to realise I’m not the only one, I’m not crazy, I’m not going to be punished for this. After almost 16 years of suffering, I can finally find a way to control this.
I just spent the last 2 hours trying to organise my stationary seeing as we finally managed to put the Alex drawers up tonight. I am however writing this from a clear bedside table instead of my lap, so that’s awesome. I do however need a proper perfume stand of some sort because using a knackered old set of drawers is a little unsteady. Pics will hopefully be on here of the transformation tomorrow, lighting sucks right now.
On other notes, I made a pretty huge step forward today [ok so it’s midnight so technically yesterday but whatever]. It may not seem much to some but for me it really was huge. I actually had a singing lesson today. It was just warm up vocals for today but it basically meant me using my voice in front of a complete stranger, with the goal to get me out gigging again. This really doesn’t seem like a whole lot, but lets put it this way. I haven’t gigged in 9 years. It took me 5 years to sing for my own husband. I literally developed this anxiety with singing for people, a thing I used to adore, to the point I would have a panic attack at just the thought of it. This Saturday, I opened my mouth and sang to a total stranger. That tiny little thing, is absolutely huge to me.
Permission to be proud of myself?