I love blogging and I love my life and I think it’s important when reading these amazing things to also know the whole story. So here is part of it. Consider this an intro to a series that you will see popping up here and there on the blog. I’m on a moment to moment mission of sparkle recovery.
i’ve decided to give my OCD a name, WB, aka: Wet Blanket. Hanging out with a wet blanket is the worst. I know because I hang out with mine all the damn time. Don’t know what one is? A wet blanket is “One that discourages enjoyment or enthusiasm” according to the dictionary. Damn right too. I’m sure any fellow OCD sufferer would agree. Add that to being a parent and its just plain sad because having a child is joyous and when it’s not, it’s not…that goes for all of us in this parenting gig too, right?
WB is always sneaking in the window when life starts to really get good and says, “Hello! Remember when x,y, and z happened? Oh and the future and all of this crazy stuff that could have/might happen?! YOU COULD DIE. Everyone you love could die. Wipe that smile off your face little lady. Time to get to work and think about all of this on repeat and do a bunch of weird stuff that does nothing until you finally need to ask someone to help make you feel better. Ok nod ok but don’t believe them, doubt everything always. Ooo ooo! It’s time for bed, let’s dream about this crazy crap together now too, ok? Hugs! See you when you shoot up in the night from this fabulous night terror I am going to make you have!” Then suddenly I am the wet blanket on a day of fun and everyone around me is trying to lift it off and then they get all wet and pruned from trying to help.
I loathe this. I have lost numerous people in my life from my constant anxiety and swirling on about nonsense and irrational fears and trying to hide that I live with WB only makes me someone I’m not. I’m pretty sure the persona I have when I am trying to act as if I’m ok, is a little bit of a bitch. When you are fighting something that is trying to steal your happiness constantly you start to have to put your foot down and be a hardass and you begin forget exactly what you are fighting and you put your armor on against everyone and everything.
In a way I feel like naming this horrid disease a silly name, like WB will take away from it’s power a bit. WB is also the channel that played all of the best most cheesy shows as a teenager which is just the icing on this mental cake.
Thank you to everyone who has supported me and especially to those who may have ended up a bit soggy in the process. You are always appreciated and I wouldn’t be here and able to find the humor in all of this without you.
Thanks for reminding me daily that, “You don’t have to believe everything you think.”