Recovery is NOT Linear.

I was looking on Pinterest for the 100th time the other day browsing tattoo ideas when I found one that hit me, HARD. It was a pulse made of flowers that read recovery is not linear. I was diagnosed with OCD back in June. I did not think I would ever be normal again or be able to properly function in society. I have intrusive thoughts and compulsions. (Best of both worlds ehh?) Let me tell you IT.FUCKING.SUCKS! On the worst days it is almost unbearable and the best days I am ‘normal’. I have struggled with OCD ever since I was a child, it just didn’t get bad until times of intense stress, which I will tell you all about.

I grew up in a normal home until I was 12. My parents divorced, Mom got the wrong boyfriend, and I moved in with my dad and his fiance. Long story short, dad got the wrong fiance as well. Dad was my best friend and hero until he married her and magically changed into someone I could not even talk to anymore. Both of them were extremely emotionally and mentally abusive towards to me I also was physically abused a couple times, something not very many people know. I had a hard home life during my high school years, I was forced to babysit my step-mother’s grandchildren every other weekend and on the weekends they weren’t there I was lucky if I got to get out of the house. I cleaned the whole house, vacuumed everyday, swept, mopped, cleaned the kitchen, I did ALL of the housework. Every single day, even if it wasn’t dirty. Now, you may be wondering if I deserved the harsh strictness of not being able to go anywhere, negative. I was and still am a straight A student all throughout high school and literally the worst thing I ever did was get an attitude when I was on my period. I did not drink until I was 20, I have never done drugs, or smoked a cigarette. I never snuck out of the house or disobeyed what they told me to do, but I was still somehow in the wrong. They bought all of my clothes and makeup for school without me and I had no choice but to wear them. I know it sounds like first world problems, but being a girly girl like I am, I like to pick out my clothes, it is how I express myself. I did not have that opportunity until I moved out. Plus, my stepmom and I do not share the same taste in clothing. I would cry myself most nights and had to cry it out in the shower on the regular because if they heard me, it would open a whole new can of worms. I feel all theses details are important to talk about for everyone to understand my compulsions. I was terrified of leaving the door unlocked, unreasonably scared of leaving the bathroom sink water running (I have never done any of this in my life, just something I grew paranoid about), I was also scared of leaving a light on, or not waking up in time to catch the bus or drive to school. I would run from the end of the drive way while waiting on the bus or warming my car up 5 different times to make sure the doors were locked, the lights were off, and everything else was tidy and perfect. I would still be uneasy about it all the way to school. Luckily I enjoyed school and it would take my mind off of things. This is when my OCD got really bad and I would also have intrusive thoughts.

I did not get help I needed because I was too scared to talk to anyone about what I was going through, and it got worse and worse. I eventually got the courage and my sweet big brother helped me move out when I turned 18 in 2014 a week before I graduated. He did not know what was going on because I did not want anyone to worry about me, he had a 2 year old and a set of newborn twins when it started, I didn’t want to add me to his list of worries. He moved me into my now husband’s (my high school sweetheart) house with his wonderful mom and family. They have always been my saving grace and there for me. While, I had finally escaped what I had thought was the core of my problems and that I would get better, which I did for a while, I still had episodes of OCD. I was and still worry about locking the doors, cutting everything off, if I did this, or that, but it would be in short episodes. I would still check everything a hundred times and constantly worry and have anxiety about the tiniest of things.

Fast forward to June of 2019, and I had a full blown mental breakdown. I lost 20 pounds, couldn’t eat, would sleep all day, and be a crying, anxiety ridden, panic attack having mess when I was awake, hot flashes, chills, sweating episodes, I could not function, I was not me. It was the worst thing I have ever been through in my life. I am a very independent, strong, caring, talkative, life loving human and I hated every being of existing during my weakest point. I ended up going to the Emergency Room and they gave me some high grade benadryl to make me sleep and a number to call to make an appointment. Which get this, they could not see me until freaking AUGUST this was the first Monday of June. I then had another panic attack episode, because I could NOT wait until August. I almost had myself committed just to get the help I so desperately needed. Luckily my husband called the back of our insurance card and our insurance company got me in with a psychiatrist the very same day.

I was still having attacks waiting to be seen, and when I finally saw my doctor he asked me some questions, talked to me, and finally diagnosed me with OCD, generalized anxiety disorder, and social anxiety, which hey makes a LOT of sense. He gave me some medicine to take if I have an anxiety or panic attack, and gave me something to take daily. Which thankfully WORKS! He told me, I didn’t need to be committed, just needed something to regulate the chemicals in my brain basically. Now, if you are going through this, the medicine doesn’t work immediately. It took a couple of months for it to fully work with me, and around the time of my period, I have a few OCD episodes, but nothing I can’t talk to myself about and feel better.

The point of me telling my whole life story to a group of strangers on the internet is to give those struggling with Mental Health disorders hope. It is what I needed. I always kind of knew I had OCD, because I am very interested in psychology, I just didn’t understand how debilitating it can be to ones existence. It will get better and it will get easier to deal with. I know it seems hopeless and like you’re a freak and never going to get better, but you will. There are also so many other people going through the same thing that you can reach out to online. Always remember, RECOVERY IS NOT LINEAR. It is okay to have ups and downs, and bumps in the road to healing and recovery. You will not be okay all the time and you will have tiny episodes every now and then. Surround yourself with people you love, who encourage you, bring you joy, and do not judge you. Life will be so amazing if you do this, and get the help you need, I know mine is.

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