Thursday, 7 June 2012

The Rash

Good morning..well actually it's not all that 'good.' I have my five year old with tonsillitis which scared the hell out of me yesterday as a rash appeared. Now perhaps nobody else flaps quite as much as me when they see a rash but I was a woman possessed with a glass tumbler. I cannot tell you how many times I checked those spots to see if they 'blanched.' I almost neared the point of phoning an ambulance (even though they did disappear under pressure, well I think they did, cue ocd) when I was very sensible and called my doctors who said they would see her at 7pm. It was a few hours of dinner, check spots, bath, check spots, call husband ("hurry the bloody up"), check spots and finally shoes on and all clamber in the car. Doc was fantastic and reassuring-ah my favourite word-and said was a viral rash and she needs antibiotics. Then I finally stopped worrying, although tonsillitis still has me insisting on tucking her up in bed with me and checking her fever all night. Poor baby, never really complained, and actually seems on the mend now. And relax....until your husband wakes you to say he is 'dying' in the night. 'Dying?' try labour, try two emergency sections, try nine months of walking around like an elephant. Funny how my sympathy doesn't reach to man flu, but I did make him breakfast and coffee, gave him lots of drugs and sent him on his merry way to work :)

So ocd this week..well apart from the 'rash' all was not bad until I decided I wanted to watch a scary movie. Now, I am strange that I like scary movies but they must not be a certain theme. I can't see anything about mental health, loss of control, people possessed-hmmm the list could be longer. So this can be quite limiting especially if you haven't done your research and decide to just go with the flow for a nice movie night and bottle of white. Enter 'Woman in Black.' I was all cosy on the sofa when the opening scene was three children-my mind started ticking at this point- and all of a sudden they get up, walk to the window and jump out. Now this is my worst nightmare. Instantly I look at my hubby, he looks at me 'Don't panic, it's just a film.' Me: "oh no, oh no." My ocd voice: " what if I do that, what if I have no control and just get up and jump out the window? I don't want to die, I don't want to do that."

I am so annoyed at myself, my illness, my impulsiveness. One dvd choice, one moment and it can change moments, months or my life. However I was lucky this time. The thought stayed for a while, I sat on my hands, tried not to move did all those things that are actually 'compulsions' really for a pure o sufferer, but then I got up and walked around. This seemed to ease the though, it relinquished my belief that of course I was in control. It was just a film. It was not real. Yes things like that can happen, but I have not got psychosis. I am not suicidal. I have ocd and ocd will not make me do anything I don't want to do. I AM IN CONTROL.

I'm going to leave it there as I think that is the perfect line to end today's blog. Let's believe in ourselves. We can do this.

Love, Annie

Monday, 4 June 2012 first blog and introduction. this is weird. Ok, firstly I know nothing about technology. I'm not even sure if this blog will post, or what it will look like. I apologise if it's the most simple design you have ever seen, but honestly it's just a revelation that I got my laptop to start. If you saw me yesterday you would have seen a rather crazy scene of me screeching at my poor husband "not to touch anything!" while I desperately tried to plug a dongle (never, ever, heard of such a thing) in, and get connected to the Internet. This is it, I thought, my way out of potty training my three year old-who still won't do a number two on the toilet-yes lovely I know-and finally connect with people other than on the school run or at the park. I was desperate to experience it all. Yes skype (oh my god I can SEE my sister) to facebook, to just web searching on something else other than my iphone 3g thingy that was on it's last legs thanks to the kids and sticky fingers.
So here I am...blogging. I have always written diaries, I have always loved to write. So when my sister decided to do one, I wondered, although rather meekly, if anyone would read mine? My story, my life, has been, well, a rollercoaster, really. I have days where you would think I was a regular mummy of two, rushing around, begging my five year old to put her uniform on, whilst desperately trying to grab my three year old who is jumping on the bed and also needs to get to preschool-I am more than aware at this point that we have half hour left and I haven't even showered and dry shampoo isn't going to cut it today. So this is me on a good day. Not in control of my hyperactive girls yes, but not crawled up in bed begging my husband to take me to hospital, the priory, anywhere...because i'm not sure I can be trusted. This is my bad day, my very bad days, that are even hard to think about because of the emotional damage I must have inflicted on my poor, innocent children who just don't know what is wrong with mummy. I can only hope that they don't remember these times as they are still quite young, but when they keep happening and my eldest is nearing six, I cant pretend anymore. This will affect them too, and for that, I will feel sorrow and guilt forever.
So from that rather morbid but very real, first couple of paragraphs, I guess I should give you history and a bit more of me. Well, I'm 30 (this has hit me hard, so lets not talk to much about it lol) I was married to my wonderful husband last year, although we have been together for seven years. He is my everything. Without him, whether it be his voice or just his physical presence, I'm sure I wouldn't be here in my home writing this write now. He gives me my confidence, my inner voice, my reality check. He is the love of my life. He gave me the other great loves of my life, my two daughters. The days they were born were the most profound of my life, it was the moment why I really knew why I was here, why I had kept fighting for all these years. They make me laugh, make me cry, make me despair, make me scream "I'm on strike!" but my god they make me happy. The love I have for them, wow who knew what that love felt like. Its undeniable, it's forever, it's painful. My girls. Even as I wrote that I had that eerie but wonderful feeling 'mine' sometimes I look at them and can't believe I was so lucky, that through all the pain I got through it. I will have two-hopefully three, who will love me forever.
I have fought my ocd battle for fourteen years now. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The disorder which haunts me-sometimes for days, sometimes for years. When I'm lucky I get a few months off. Many people believe this condition to be about hand washing, and cleaning/ordering things around the house. For some it is, but there are many different themes/obsessions which it can afflict. Every time a new one appears-I have had more than one 'worry' at once, but normally one takes preference as this is 'the worst thought ever' It feels like it is never going to go away, even though you are quite aware that it will. As somebody who has lived years' with this looping cycle, it is easy to be matter of fact about it and laugh at it even, but the smile will never reach your eyes, as although you don't believe you will truly do it, or that it will happen, it's the probability that it could that is almost incomprehensible. The fact it COULD have truth can bring you to your knees in terror. It can give you extreme panic, depression, a complete feeling of craziness, you're on the verge...its awful. Let me tell you of my type of ocd, in case this is confusing. I have drunk two glasses of lovely wine, so I'm hoping my words don't end up like this shfkjfhkaherghiq that was meant to look like gobbly gook but just looked silly :) Anyway, I have intrusive thought ocd, its actually called 'pure o' as I don't have any compulsions just horrible thoughts that I can't get out of my head, and have had me in hospital accident and emergency, looked after by a team of people at me home, and more familiar with SSRI's, SNRI'S, benzo's etc etc than I would ever like to be. Medication was my saviour, but lately it is failing me, and my over confident, niggling, ocd 'voice.' I don't want to put all my thoughts here, purely because they can make others worse and we can feed off each other, but alot of mine is confidence based, due to childhood stuff, well that's my thoughts, anyway. They form around 'what if questions, and are especially concentrated around fear of mental health (how ironic), harm to others and being seen in public acting strangely or inappropriately. I have never, ever acted on my thoughts, and we are all told we never will, but its the thought that we could ie 'what if I wasn't in control.' But, as ocders, we are. We must remember this. We fear the worst because we care so much, too much of being in control.
So next time you walk down the street and see a stressed out mum, dischevelled, but make up on, hair just about done, pushing a buggy and running next to a scooter-looking just like everybody else with a busy day ahead of them-it may not be like it seems. She may be having her good day, but she may also be silently suffering. She may be me, Annie Rose, or she may be you. Whoever she is, wherever she is, lets know we're in this together! Until next time...Annie xxxx