I am really starting to believe that there is a way out of the OCD trap. But none of it is anything usually perscribed to people. I just hope I am right.
I've been on a helluva spiritual push for the past few years. It has been painful and lonely and I would never do it over again. I think it had to happen, and it had to happen fast. There are things to do on this planet, and I feel acutely aware that life is more than just what we see.
Each human being has a physical body. But she also has an emotional/mental body and a spiritual body. If you affect one, you affect them all. Now, when I rejected the Catholic Church, I continued to pray, but I prayed in that Suspended Belief kind of way. Once I began appealing to the energetics surrounding my existence on all three aforementioned levels, and once I started doing vibrational healing with other people, I had no choice but to believe in a higher power. I make sure I call on the absolute source and maker, and highest most positive energies of the universe. I ask "Please" and I say thank-you. And most of all, I know a change is coming.
I took a beginning and advanced vibrational healing class with some friends of mine. My life changed. It turns out, we carry all sorts of old blocks and yucky energy within all three of our bodies, and there are ways to release it. The release can be harrowing in itself, but I personally prayed to get through it. I found out that miracles are normal occurrences, and most importantly, if you suspend doubt for just a little while and accept that working with energy is real, you usually get some result that'll convince you.
I don't doubt that there are unorthodox ways to heal, and that there are higher powers. They have made themselves very apparant in my life. By being constantly aware, I sense shifts in myself that I never knew I'd be able to accomplish. I do believe I'm being guided and that I am being shown the way to some degree of freedom.
For example. I'm dating a guy in town who has a filthy mouth and little impulse control. He's obnoxious and loud, yet you can sense about him something real and gold. He's a sweet man. He nearly died ten years ago in a bike vs RV crash that he caused, and is lucky to still have his legs. He can walk, and people didn't even think he'd live. He is legally blind. And as for the obnoxiousness? Well, he didn't really know why he is the way he is, but he is tourettic! I mean, talk about getting corned on all fronts!
I hooked up with him at first as a casual kind of gig. I have found that he and I have some real spiritual work to do together. I never thought I would tell him I love him, but I know him from some other level, and I know we are together at this time for a reason.
I have always been deeply ashamed of my OCD. I'll be feeling confident and grounded, and suddenly, the little voice that won't shut up and is linked almost directly to my gag reflex says "maybe he doesn't like you anymore. Maybe he likes this gal." More than anything, I 'm afraid I will chase him away with my OCD. I ask repetetive questions, some of them unnecessary, and some of them, I am learning, totally valid. The fear of asking them triggers the spins. My family demonized my OCD, made it entirely my fault, would not let me get help until I sought it myself at age 14. (I had exhibited classic OCD rituals since I was about 5 years old, and somehow, they missed how odd it was and how unhappy I was and kept pushing me to just "grow up.") Even going to the school counselor was humiliating, as she clearly thought I was strange for the behaviours I was reporting. All in all, I was so ashamed of myself, feeling as if some part of me wanted to do these OCD things. That I was some sort of freak and unworthy, weak screw up. Shhh. Don't tell anyone.
Hiding it was harder because OCD's major bread became relationships themselves. Mom's newly divorcee tirades against men, how we don't need them and we should never let one hurt us, well, they had me believing that I should never, ever ask questions in a relationship if something was bothering me. The goal was to feel nothing at all, or else I was weak. In fact, being in a relationship in the first place was a cop-out! Ridiculous to think that I was mature or human enough to have a real relationship, since all the ones I'd had so far were bullshit to my parents. You can possibly see how this lent to scrupulosity. My parents were the Gods I was afraid to defy. I could never let a man see me sweat. Instead, i ate away my insides with unanswered questions that never stopped.
Ahhhh. Therapy. THerapy, and the higher, most positive energies. After 31 years of living this lie, I met my present boyfriend. We are not a forever couple, but we are eternal on another level. He is a treat for me, a reward.
Here is the thing! He has accepted his tourrettic behaviour as normal and he is still, despite the anger from being blind, unable to do any of the extreme sports he used to do, and constantly chasing women away with his steady stream of curse words, basically happy! A typical Leo, he forgives and forgets fast. I'll never forget the other day when I went into one of my bouts of repetetive questioning, I told him that I didn't want to be this way around him, and that I hated this part of me.
"You can't help it," he remarked nonchalantly. "It's cool." And he hugged me. Hard.
That's when I started realizing that this disorder does not make me incompetent. I can still be the beautiful, intelligent, grounded person I hope to be, and have OCD. I have no need to be perfect–trying to be screws me up too much and makes the OCD take flight! For the first time, I realized my OCD as totally acceptable. Another packet in my brief case. I suddenly had a visio of myself. I had always been trying to be artisan, perfect white bread. Putting out some sort of facade of perfection because I didn't want people to know just how screwy and needy I felt inside. I can take care of myself, and I am a very independent gal, but I finally saw myself as that dense, whole grain bread where the grains still have the husks on them. THe kind that kkeeps you full for a long time. Wholesome, and deliciously imperfect. I am so okay with this.
That's when I started realizing that I have always thought that I am being bad for wanting to be in relationships and wanting to be loved. Good GOd! It's what we are all here to do! Bring together the male and female! Once I recognized that, I lifted that weight from my heart. Now I am free to love. I am free to show love without being so worried of making a fool of myself.
I drove to my boyfriend's house this week, the OCD jumbles coming up in my stomach. Does he still love me? Watch him and see his behaviour to see if there's anything indicating he is going to ditch me. Figure out a way to ask if he still likes me even tho I asked him repetetive questions yesterday.
Wait. What am i hiding! I suddenly realized that I was excited to see him. I have never allowed myself to be excited to see a man b ecause I have never thought I was allowed to be affected by them! So i always took my excitement and turned it into its opposite: defensiveness. Why I shouldn't like him. How he is going to screw me over because he is a man. Self pity.
WIth my new release, I decided to be excited to see him. For the first time in my life, I knew what butterflies in my stomach were! And when I saw him, I was so happy just to see him, and it elicited happiness in him. I felt more myself, and more able to go and do the things I needed to do. I was no longer watch dogging him. I was just loving. And as scary as that could be, it was truly enough. I am allowed to show affection. I am allowed to care, and I am allowed to let a man know I love him rather than try to get him to love me before I stingely hand over little bits of gratification to him. Because guess what. I AM love.