I have OCD and I have had it for over 30 years. As i child i was a happy go lucky kid a day dreamer. I had more girlfriends before I was eight than since then. I am now 40. But one day on my grandmothers farm, I was abused sexually by an older boy. i wished he killed me that day, because he destroyed my life. Aids was the big thing and as I heard adults taking about it i became obsessed that I had it or that i had been made gay. I tried and failed to speak to my family. My parents being ultra religious banned sex from being discussed. Even if a scene on tv showed a man and a woman about to kiss the tv would be turned off. I was not allowed to been with girls and worst off all i was not allowed outside after 8pm. I was the oldest boy on the road and i spend my night listening to younger kids learning about life. Evenually I was not allowed to hang around with the kids on the street but my brother 2 years younger than i was, as they were around his age. I was left with no friends. Eventually i did make a friend my own age, but he was as interested in girls as i was but obviously without my problems. I was afraid that if i kissed a girl she would get aids, or if there was any touching she would notice that I was different. My new friend decided i was a burden and hung out with others instead. Alone again.  I made another friend from school and I hung out on his road. His younger brother and his friends accepted me. I felt embarressed hanging out on that road with them, but i had no-one else.

When i turned 18, i rebelled and my parents had no control over me. I turned to drink and drank to much. I found a new friend who introduced me to his friends, and my school friend disowned me.Although i had my problems, i had been doing Martial Arts from Child-hood and that had given me a healthy figure. Girls found me attractive. And despite my own problems i always tried to be nice to everyone. So people in the area did like me, but i was so restricted before the age of 18 and after i turned 18 i drank too much, which at times made my ocd and depression worse.I was with this group for a few years. Before I met these guys they were afraid of there own shadows. but they found me like a bodyguard and someone who helped them build up their confidence. I realised at the end that they used me. if i am honest i knew they were but i needed friends. My OCD and Depression was still ruining my life. One night I told one of the guys who i though i could trust that I had been abused, and he said he would help and support me. but he didn’t, instead he spread ruomers that I was into kids and he kept making fun of me because i had been abused.By the way I am not into kids so what he said upset me so much. I got angry frustrated and depressed. I questioned who could help me or if anyone cared.

at the age of 24 i found myself again without friends. So i threw myself into work. I joined the Civil Service, working for The Revenue Dept. After a few years i decided to try to save money and buy a house in Wexford in the South of Ireland, 200 miles away from my Grandmother house. The idea being the people could visit me instead of going to the farm, witch my grandmother owed but has not lived in for 70 years. We were brought there as kids for summer holidays. But i hated the place so much and didn’t want others going there.

Everything is slow in Ireland. I applied from the transfer from Dublin to Wexford and was accepted in a few weeks, but the transfer took 5 years. I was moved to another Dept, and suffered 5 years of bullying.

After i got to Weford i started looking around for a house. Twice i put down deposits and twice the deal fell threw. The first house I pulled out of as the builders where playing games and lying about contracts. The 2nd house was sold to someone else after i had paid my deposit. Shortly after that I had a breakdown. I was told it would be hard to get a loan if the bank knew i was on medication so i went down to a low dose. Thinking back now i have no idea where hat came from or how they could ever know??

I went home to Dublin and told my mother i had suffered abuse as a child, we went and spoke to my doctor. I finally thought i was going to get help.I finally thought i would be free. A few days later my mother was hit by a car. i was on my way back to work in Wexford when my father called. i had gone back to Wexford that day as it was a Monday and also someone was supposed to be coming to my apartment to move in. As i was told my mother was alive and stable, i being a nice honest person when on to the office and told my colleagues what happened that i was going home. My lease on the apartment had to be extended. i thought i would have moved into my own house at that stage, so i went to the estate agency and got an extra month. i then waited for this guy to come over to the appartment. While waiting i was phoning home for news and my dad told me to stay the night in wexford and go home the next day that my mother was ok. I was praying and praying, asking for guidence, begging for help. Of course the guy never showed up. I had stayed because the OCD was saying he might arrive, what a curse. 11.30pm i decided to go home. A few weeks later  i went back to wexford gathered my stuff and went home, I have never been back to Wexford.

I was off work for 4 months. When i went back i was put into a section i found ok, and build back up my confidence.

But then i got anxious and changed Dept again. My section was being disbanded and i feared that i was going to be out back into the office where i had been bullied. My new department, is a new HR dept, we 300 staff look after 37000 people. The senior managers admit the dept is a disaster. Everyone is stressed out. Somehow during my 3 years i have managed to get promoted, So i had to stay to see out my promotion. My sister needed me to bring her to college nearby so that is another reason i am still there.

But last year i finally managed to tell my father that I had been abused. He was shocked to hear it, and then said that I had suffered for 30 years for someone elses crimes. The doctor had said something similar. The doctor siad that I had been tortoured by myself for all those years.

I have been up and down ever since. I am very confused.  for weeks i used to run over to a nearby church every change i got and beg for help. Nowdays i cannot go near a church. A few months ago i realised that praying was a new obsession, and that prayers had never helped me. As a child i promised god that I would accept my burden if he would spare my family from troubles. Without going into details i feel God let me down. I found out no-one else in my family was abused, and we had other troubles.

By the way writing this down is causing me severe anxiety. I FEAR God will punish me for saying this.

This leads me onto my big fear.

I am convinced that God and the Devil are 2 sides of the same coin. I think that they are one being. I think that God allows suffering and i think God is torturing me. Recent events lead me to think he will punish me for what i have written. I am not testing God. But i am tired of suffering and tired of praying for help, and exhausted by the stress i find myslef under everyday.

I mentioned recent events. In my Therapy group i mentioned that If God is within all of us then we are God. What i mean is that he should believe in ourselves and not feel the need to pray/beg for help, as that might be seen as a sign of weekness. I prayed a begged for 30 years, but it was only when i forced myself to speak up to my Mam, my Doctor and my Father, that i got some relief.

However i am now left with a feeling of regret.

So i am very angry. I am angry with God, so i stopped praying. When i did so i got back luck. I have been over to a very stressful section, and my OCD is flaring up. The other day i was so wound up, i reversed into another car.

So what is going on. I need my luck to change, i need the stress to go away, i need my boss to go away. But I am reluctant to pray as i don’t want that compulsion ever again.

Have I just had bad luck for over 30 years.

I called in sick yesterday and my doctor put me back on meds. I am so very confused. How did I end up back here again. 12 months meds free. Guess I was slipping back but refused to admit it. I think that I wouldn’t be in this mess if I accepted I need the meds to live. I really hope that I learn to accept this if this is the reality. I desire a life without meds but maybe that’s not for me.

Will people accept me?

Is there any point in going on?

My father is having calm conversations with me. He told me that his life is easy but we all have to keep fighting.

My mother doesn’t want me to give up.

Morning is the most difficult part of the day for me. I don’t know if I am better in or out of work these day’s.

Hopefully in a few weeks I will have a more pleasant blog.