Phew. This weekend has not been pleasant. Well let me start again. Friday—was great. I felt great at work, had some minor anxiety, but really had a good day. I even went out to lunch with a co-worker I haven’t seen in awhile. When I got home, Taylor was already there—which I suspected might spike my anxiety, but I was pleasantly surprised. I was okay. I felt okay. I was even able to drag him out to AT&T to check out new phones—if you call him sitting in the corner while I scope the newest options out going together. I still think it was a victory! Anyways the rest of the evening I managed to distract myself and didn’t really feel uncomfortable. I thought—yes, this is going to be a great weekend!

WRONG. I woke up Saturday morning and had an intrusive thought, but was able to shake it. Then another—I thought I shook that one off too. I feel back asleep , then the alarm goes off and I wake up to a neon flashing sign above my head “Remember that intrusive thought? Yeah thought so” I mean seriously that is exactly what it felt like. The weirdest part is I wasn’t necessarily focusing on the thought at the moment, it was just the actuality that it was there and I was aware of it. I got up and got dressed (Taylor and I had eye appointments) and the thought kept bugging me, but I was trying to brush it off. I was somewhat successful. We went to the appointment, grabbed lunch and then headed back home—we had our eyes dialated so we didn’t exactly have any big plans. We are both chronic afternoon nap addicts, so we decided to lay down. Next thing I know I wake up in a slight state of panic and BOOM that thought is STILL there. Not necessarily the intrusive thought, but the awareness that I had it. It felt like someone stuck a Nintendo cartridge in my head and was going to keep playing the same game 24/7. I walked into the living room and my face must have said it all. Taylor asked what was wrong and I tried to explain—he looked confused, as he should be. It’s VERY difficult to explain, especially to someone who doesn’t suffer from OCD. I decided to make the most of the evening and ran out to Target. I don’t know what the hell happened but by the time I got back I was a sobbing mess. I think sometimes when I am feeling so low, I look around at everyone else and see them smiling, and laughing and desperately wish that was me. I automatically assume they have zero problems and I am downright jealous of them. I did manage to calm myself down and the remainder of the evening was decent. The thought was still there, but I was able to distract myself enough to not be overly controlled by it.

Sunday—-now that’s a different story. I didn’t sleep well, at all. Every single time I woke up, there it was, the neon flashing sign saying “You have OCD. You have intrusive thoughts. You can’t feel okay around Taylor” Good Lord, can’t a girl catch a break? Taylor had fallen asleep on the couch and crawled into bed the last time I woke up. Great, I thought, even more ammunition for my OCD. I felt funny at first, but was able to snuggle up close and relax. Still, the thought haunted me. I just wanted it out of my head. I finally just got up about 30 minutes after Taylor came in because I couldn’t sleep.

The remainder of the day my head literally ached—I mean the top of my head felt like it was going to explode. That was the sensation I got from this sickening thought that followed me around like a lost puppy. I could not shake it and it was bothering me more and more. I really had no energy to fight it today. I tried, but after a few hours I crawled back into bed and accepted defeat. I did not want to face this right now. I secretly wished that when I woke up it would be gone. It wasn’t, and I knew it wouldn’t.

I got up, started crying and crawled into Taylor’s arms on the couch. He knew I was having a really rough day and did his best to comfort me. He is utterly amazing. I seriously feel bad that he married a mess like me. He has been so supportive and has never judged. Then my OCD has the audacity to make my thoughts about him? It’s so, so frustrating.

His parents invited us over for dinner and as much as I did not want to go, I did. I knew I had to. I cannot let this beast ruin every last thing for me. I managed to have a half decent time—I still had that thought “stuck” but I did my best to have a good time in spite of it.

Taylor had to go to work after to work on his thesis so I’ve been sitting here waiting for him to get home. The last few hours have been Jekyll and Hyde. When I first got home I felt okay. Then of course I felt guilty for feeling okay—I assumed it was because Taylor wasn’t here. Here we go again. The thoughts and feelings came rushing back “Why is this happening again?” “Why is it getting worse instead of better?” “I can’t believe I’m going through this again!” “I can’t, I just can’t do this.” Cue tears. I’m talking Niagara Falls type tears. I completely lost it. I wanted to call my Mom, but it’s midnight there. I wanted Taylor to come home but then my OCD said, “No don’t do that! You will lose it if he comes home—that thought—it will come back and you will have a miserable night!”

My mind is so torn and so exhausted. I know I must accept that I may feel like this for awhile before any sun shines my way, but damn is that hard to accept. It’s so self defeating to have such varied highs and lows. I think I could accept it far easier if someone said “Jessica, you just have to get through three more months like this and then it will be over.” It’s the not knowing, the doubt that is killing me. When I am at my lowest points, like this weekend it feels that I will be climbing an ever growing mountain, one that I will never reach the top. I am just really struggling right now and it’s hard to see any bright spot. I know deep down I can do this, but when you feel as I do right now, you just want to throw in the towel. I vow to have a better day tomorrow. Even if I am plagued by thoughts, I will not let it get me down. I have to promise myself that or I will never get out of this hole.