If I were to tell the people around me (like family and my husband) all of the things I do and think then they would get so frightened. So part of me needs this website, so I can write about these things and not be judged or hurt people. Most of you all have experienced these feelings or understand the compulsions to hurt oneself or obsessive visualizations about dying and different ways I would go.

I get compulsions to cut, punch, and hurt myself in different ways. I obsessively visualize different means of dying (really it's been strangulation lately). I spoke to my doctor about this, and he takes it very seriously but he also reminds me that these are obsessions and it doesn't mean I will kill myself. I fear that I will lose control over my compulsions and obsessions and do the things that my mind ruminates over. It is difficult to convince yourself that you still have control when your perseverations have very much taken over your thoughts.

I couldn't finish my blog previously because my doctor called me. I sincerely did not think that I would be back here; that it could get this bad again. And my parents are so angry and scared. 

They yell at me that I should stop trying to explain what OCD is to them (they say they will never understand) and that I cannot expect them to be my therapist (I have never asked this). I live with my husband but spent the weekend with my parents to get grad work done and my parents also call me constantly. I have asked them to talk to someone (like a specialist) or at least read up a little on what this disorder is and what are some techniques they can use around me to help me when I feel depressed and I am panicking. They think that I am asking them to be my psychologist.

I believe they are simply scared and want to continue telling me that everything is okay because it is their way of coping. I can understand this- who wants to here that their daughter has fantasies of strangling herself? they're terrified and they care, but then they yell and scream at me and tell me that I am crazy or that I will scare my husband away. They are continually passive-aggressive, invasive, and stubborn. I explain to them that telling me all of these positive yet absolutist ways of speaking actually make me more nervous because I live in a world of uncertainty- but again they get angry and back peddle or become defensive…"I can't change… I am not your psychologist…I am not perfect… don't we do so much for you…if you love me then you will smile right now…there are things you can control…"

I am no saint either. I will scream back when called crazy. I am typically calm yet I was pretty fiery this past weekend with them. At this point, whether it is fair to them or not, I have set an ultimatum. I told them that I will not speak to them until they have arranged an appointment with a specialist to learn techniques so we can better communicate with each other. I do feel guilty, but as I explained to them- I am really sick right now and I need help, when I talk to them I feel more panicked so I need to be a bit selfish or employ some 'self-preservation' and cannot speak with them unless they it is helpful. I am not in a place where I can cope with the people that I feel more anxious around right now. I told them that I am not doing this to be cruel and it may be selfish on my part and I am more than willing to discuss this and/or apologize at another time and place when I am feeling better. But right now, I cannot cope with it. 

This simply stinks! And I am struggling to complete my graduate work! At least my professor has been amazingly accommodating and supportive. When I read sometimes though, those ruminations are so loud it's like it's a foreign language floating out of my professors mouth- there's so little I can concentrate on now besides my obsessions.

 

thanks for listening everyone. Not feelings alone and isolated is part of the battle.

With love,

Talia

 

1 Comment
  1. dandee 11 years ago

    i get it.  i cut and i burn myself, because i know, i've known since i was a child, that i am going to die a horribly violent death.  and i wait for it.  and the pain that i inflict on myself gives me some modicum of control.  as much as i hate what i do to myself, i secretly love it.  because there has to be some love in my life, and if i don't give it to myself, then, i'll have nothing.

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