Hi. My names Julie. I always spell it as Julye though. I’m unsure why, though. This is my first blog, I don’t know what to type as you can tell.
I have been going to therapy for about 6 months trying to get over my issues with parents and my inability to develop intimate relationships. Also for my anxiety. During my latest appoint with my therapist she mentioned I set an hour a day to worry instead of worry all day. I told her I could because I worried about everything from the time I woke up until I went to bed. She kept digging and that’s when I was diagnosed with OCD. At, first I just felt a little different. I didn’t really have a reaction, Its possible I was just in shock. I started to sink in about an hour later.
That’s when I became obsessed with researching what OCD really was. It was all I could think about. At first, I was so fudging angry with my parents for not realizing I was different. That I had this chemical imbalance in my brain and nobody ever noticed it. I finally calmed down enough to call them and my parents actually understood and they were the only people to understand that OCD is more than being obsessed with cleaning. I got tired of people saying OCD isn’t that bad, you’re super clean and organized so what. I wanted to scream at them and call them morons and tell them to crack open a book sometime. I felt as if everyone but my parents were trivializing my disorder. After I got past being angry with my parents, I kind of went into depression. I kept thinking I was so different that nobody would ever think the way that I do that I would be different. That nobody would ever understand me or want me. I don’t know why I thought that. I mean I’m the same as I always was. nothing ever changed I just have a reason that I feel like I’m so paranoid. I’m finally okay and gripping with the reality that I’m still me and nothings changed. One day at a time
My first week of being diagnosed
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Trigger Warning
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