I was on facebook
stalking old friends and family minding my own business when I saw this:
13 PHOTOS THAT WILL FREAK OUT EVERY OCD PERSON – THESE WILL MAKE YOUR BRAIN CRY
I have OCD and a sick sense of curiousity. I mean come on now – how could they know what triggers me….right?
So I went in and I saw 13 random pictures that were just….
…..it wont let me just post one of the photos. Here is something similar.
See? In this pic? I really couldn’t careless that its not perfectly cut down the middle. On the site it had just misaligned photos or mismatched photos with a similar theme to this picture. I kept scrolling down feeling nothing but contempt for the people who wrote the supposedly humorous story – how could they post this story? How could it be allowed? But then. Oh boy but then, I found the comments. I always feel so sorry and scared for our earth when I stop to read the comments.
People laughing and saying how people with OCD would not survive past the first photo. How people with OCD need to stay away from this page, but how funny it was to them.
Still would love to know how all these people have become psychic and know what affects people with OCD.
Are all people with OCD like me? No. And to assume that would put me in same category as the people who came up with this picture or this page.
What these things do is perpetuate the stigma that OCD people are all the same.
Want to know what is OCD?
Washing my hands after someone else sneezes.
Throwing out a plastic spoon, because it hovered too close to the garbage can.
Its him, torturing himself.
But for me, a snarky comment on a phone call could carve a track in my brain that would replay over and over and over, and I found it exceptionally difficult to let it go. Often, trying to move on from some slight—large or small—I would change the subject by turning my own hostility on myself.
My face, my hair, my clothes, my teeth, the words I used, the questions I asked—nothing was good enough, and all deserved withering abuse. I didn’t know how to stop, but I had a decent toolbox filled with unhealthy ways of catching my breath.
Its her, scared of any vomiting.
Each person is different, with different likes and dislikes; don’t you think then that our disease is gonna be different too?
there it stood.
You’re a hack! it screamed.
You’ll never amount to nothing!
AY! Shh….lemme think! she said tersely.
NO! You’ll never finish, no one will ever know who you are and nothing is ever gonna happen to you again.
She jumped out of her chair and screamed out in anger. Thats wrong thinking, its wrong. Stop! Don’t let it get in!
She shook her head and started to pace the room, going over what just happened.
What are you doing, you monkeybutt? That ain’t gonna work cause, you suck! Sit down in front of the boobtube where you belong. Its made for knuckleheads like you.
SHADDAP! Wait…thats it!
She turned around and picked up her pen. She felt it. She felt the renewel, the juices started to flow.
wait…what are you doing with that pen? No…wait…stop! You’ll ruin me! Stop!
She smiled and let a laugh escape her lips as she placed her pen to the paper.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! I’m forever ruined!
Take that you evil blank paper.
I slowly open the door. My heart beating a mile a minute, wondering who will be there and will they know. Will they know my fear? Will they know my pain? My secret shame?
I walk in fingers slightly trembling, as I grab my children’s small hands.
I can barely muster a grin.
I drop off the kids in nursery and quickly hide next to my husband in service.
I do this almost every Sunday because of the social anxiety gripping my soul and the fear of the stigma. I get scared that someone I know reads this blog.
I’m afraid of that pity look. Ya know that one that people give you – “Aw you poor thing. You cant even deal with life. I’m so much better than you.”
….or something like that.
I’m also afraid to lose friends. I have already alienated 2 families in church – to the point they left the church. Granted thats probably the disease telling me they left because of me – but ya cant help notice how they treated me differently when they found out I was mentally ill. Its not something that I cant really fault them for I guess.
Thing is … I shouldn’t be afraid; but its hard living with stigma. I live with it everyday, shouldn’t I get the chance to hide from it when I can?
My family is under the assumption that I don’t need to take medicine for this, that all I need to do is pray more and rely on God. While they are partially right (I do need to rely on God more; so desperately more); they are very wrong. I need medicine, but they don’t want to hear it. So I get the disappointing looks; poor Jessica not trusting God enough, not praying enough – getting grossly misinformed by her non christian pdoc. How little do they realize.
But I guess this is the life God has chosen for me to lead. To be a ninja advocate; busting down stigmas door. Helping the poor and needy; showing them they are not alone in this horrible path of mental illness and that there is hope – in Christ.
so I guess I just answered my own question – I should be open. breaking down stigmas – no matter the repercussions.
Well, here I go.
If you have a moment, please click on over here to donate or come on over & check out & purchase something from my store or click on the picture at the top of my sidebar to make a donation towards my AFSP walk fund.
Please help save a life.
Sometime this month I make a year.
A year of life.
I don’t remember the exact date but I know it happened before May 7th (I vaguely blogged about it on May 7). During that time we had just moved into my parents house; my kids were sick; I was sick; my husband was a mess working day and night. Ay yi yi, I was just a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. In fact, I had attempted once a coupla weeks before then but chickened out.
Those months were just full of pain.
I still have suicidal ideations; but by God’s grace, the doctors help, my son’s smile, my daughter’s laugh, and my husband’s warm kisses I am still here fighting them.
After my attempt, when I found my hope in Christ; I knew I needed help others break down the stigma surrounding mental illness and support those still fighting like me; so that they can know there is hope. That’s why I’m walking in the AFSP walk (please support me in such a great cause), volunteer for the international bipolar foundation and that’s why I’m joining #semicolonproject416. What #semicolonproject416 is trying to do is break down the stigma that surround the depressed or anxious, and support each other. I join the #semicolonproject416 to show love and support and say proudly: My story is definitely not over. Don’t let yours be.
We’ve been taking it easy here. Stomach viruses and colds and man colds abound…but we’ve been surviving.
Today we all felt well enough to go out. Kids had a blast. I was in hell.
I sat on a ladybug type hell okay?
But the kids had fun.
I’ve heard that’s all that matters. But I find that hard to believe.
I’m mostly kidding of course. It was nice except for the fact that every bug in the universe decided to fly by my face.
I looked like a freakin ninja fighting a ghost.
Yes, I know swatting at bugs only makes em bug ya more….I just can’t deal!
Blargh! I sat on a ladybug for goodness sake!
How evil is that?
……..especially for that ladybug………
If you have a moment, please click on over here or come on over & check out & purchase something from my store or click on the picture at the top of my sidebar to make a donation towards my AFSP walk fund.
Please help save a life.
It’s the little things that make the day go round. Or something like that. My husband is working from home today, he wasn’t feeling too well today he said. But I think it’s just he wanted to be close to us. I like him. Ain’t he cute?
I’m still sick as anything – did I tell you that? Man my sick brain is so cloudy right now. I know I told y’all I registered for my Frederick out of darkness walk. It’s to help support the American foundation for suicide prevention (AFSP). It’s a great foundation that brings awareness towards mental health and suicide prevention. I’m a volunteer with them and am sending letters an stuff to senators to help change policies and laws regarding mental health laws and suicide prevention teaching and laws. It’s great feeling like I’m making a change.
They do more, in fact Cristi Comes has a post talking about the things AFSP does. Feel free to check it out.
So here comes the begging, can you please make a donation toward my walking fund? Together let’s help a great foundation like AFSP breakdown stigmas and help people daily choose life.
Please help save a life.
something very dumb. the smart comes later
I forgot to take all my meds yesterday. I am in hell.
I’ve been in the bathroom all day yesterday (Why it didnt hit me yesterday I dont know); I’ve been a monster to the kids today so far (and its only 9am – how horrible am I?) and I cant think of a third thing.
Last night was a blur but I think I told the husband that I hated him …. or at least I made him believe that I hated him …. or something. I don’t know. All I want to do is slip under the covers and cry.
…….yup just had another conversation with him and I did it again.
I’m just not gonna talk today. Do you think thats possible? Wait….starting to have a panic attack.
Ugh…but wait. I forgot. Heres the smart: the positive in all this. I finally registered for my first Out of Darkness Walk!
So far I’ve only raised $25; but if you see to the right….the sidebar? Ahem…all the way up top.
I’m hoping you guys can help me.
I wanna raise $1000 for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention walk. Please can you help financially? Any amount will do to help such a great cause that has helped so many people choose life instead of death.
Any contribution will help the work of AFSP, and all donations are 100% tax deductible.
Donating online is safe and easy! To make an online donation please click the “Support Jessica” button on this page.
Thanks ahead of time for any gift you give and in return for every $200 raised, I promise to offer a video of me doing something absolutely ridiculous. Just cant think of it – cause well, I miss my meds and apparently they hold the secret to my brain power.
Great post in response to the lack of support on the Universal mental health screening for every pregnant and postpartum woman petition.
We as women should be ashamed that….no. Dr. Karraa puts it better.
Originally posted on Stigmama:
Speaking Up When You’re Down
A catch-all campaign in the United States for maternal mental health awareness has been, loosely, “Speak Up When You’re Down”–a phrase used by organizations, public health, bloggers, and support groups to encourage women to talk about their mental health during pregnancy and postpartum.
Courage is the collective directive for women who are ill. In this instance, the directive is singular in effect–telling someone, hey you, “speak up when you’re down”. The onus is still on them. In between the lines of the slogan…
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Yesterday was a no good very bad horrible day. Today? I’m fighting for better.
Better for the kids. They deserve a momma who’s there for them.
Better for my husband. He deserves a wife who’s not always spacing out.
Better for me.
Today we are going for better for all of us.
Don’t forget that my ninjas – keep on fighting for a better day. Because they will come.