Day 483
In my last post I told you about my super power of Resilience. Today, it's all about Consistency. That's right, one thing about OCD people is that you can set your watch by us. We will do the same thing every day the same way for the same amount of time in the same place facing the same direction and you can take that to the bank.
I think this is incredibly helpful to the world around me. For instance, all the little critters in my neighborhood know to stay off the street at the same times every day (no matter when I say I plan to leave or arrive somewhere). In that way they can plan their hunting and scavenging without fear of being flattened by my truck. I stop every morning at the same Starbucks, I order the same drink, I use the same amount of cream and sugar. This allows Starbucks to plan accordingly and never worry about being caught off-guard by any impulsive ordering or use of condiments.
I help my city by showering and shaving at the same time every day (regardless of when I plan to get up). This allows the water department to know exactly how much water I will use and plan accordingly. I buy my gas at the same gas station every week (right after the light comes on to remind that I will soon be walking if I don't) so as not to adversely affect the price of gasoline and, thus, topple the US economy. I arrive at every appointment at precisely the same time (10-15 minutes late depending on the inconsistency of other motorists and pedestrians). This allows people to know when to expect me and plan accordingly.
I give my children the same responses to their questions, protests, gripes, and complaints. This insures that they will have a consistent upbringing characterized by the utmost integrity. I tell my wife the same jokes and get in trouble for the same things on a daily basis. This gives her the security of knowing that I haven't changed and that she never has to doubt my sincerity or fidelity. I cook food the same way every time to give my family a stability they couldn't find in any restaurant. This allows them to know exactly when to complain and when to cheer.
Consistency pays off in many ways. My friends and family never have to worry about whether or not I love them. They never have to wonder if I will be there to protect them, defend them, challenge them, hold them, or hug them. They never fear that will give up on them, walk away from them, or forget them. They never have to guess which version of me they will get on any given day, because there's only one (like it or not). Seriously, what good is a superhero if there's no guarantee he or she will show up when you're in need? Strength, speed, size, smarts, and phenomenal cosmic powers are useless if you can't count on them to be utilized consistently.
Speaking of which, I need to brush my teeth now. I would hate to upset the water department.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Super Power Number 1
Day 469
Viewing the elements of my OCD as super powers has significantly changed my outlook on life. I now look for ways to use my amazing abilities to help people. The best part is when they don't know about the "crazy". They only know that I can be a handy guy to have around. I've learned that, many times, other people don't see it as an illness as long as I don't.
The other side of the coin is that I've got this Greatest American Hero thing going on. I've got the suit and the powers, but learning to use them for the good of mankind is its own adventure. But the great part about writing a blog is that you get to tag along.
Ok, so let's take a look at exactly what my powers are. The first thing that comes to mind is an ability that I've found to be common among OCDers. It is supernatural Resilience. Seriously, how many of us have survived a stress load that would have leveled normal people and, yet, we're still kicking.
I had an in-depth discussion recently on Facebook with some close friends about the top ten superheroes of all time. We deliberated extensively about what criteria should be used to measure these titanic icons. Many factors were weighed and debated, but one thing we all agreed upon was resilience. A top notch superhero absolutely must be hard to kill. Using that criteria alone, we OCD folks qualify in spades.
I believe that Resilience, more than anything else, is what sets us apart. After 36 years of anxiety, fear, and the shear burden of literally thousands of daily rituals I found myself losing my grip on sanity, but I never considered giving up.
All through grade school, middle school, high school, and college I endured being misunderstood, misdiagnosed, and mistreated. I simply absorbed inhuman amounts of abuse and ridicule from employers, teachers, coaches, and even pastors. But it never occurred to me to quit.
I've been knocked down more times than I can count and I always get back up. In the old days I assumed that it was my job to swallow the sin for other people. And regular beatings were part of the deal. That was before I realized that I could be more than an emotional dumpster for the issues of others.
Now I see myself more like Rocky Balboa. I've taken beatings that should have killed me, but (start the inspiring theme music here) now I'm coming back. I have balance, I have strength, and I'm hard to kill.
So take heart, my friends. (climbing the steps now) What does not kill us really will only make us stronger. (building up steam) I have my meds. (taking the last rows two at a time) I have my Coach. (reaching the top) I have the support of my family and friends, but most importantly (jumping up and down like I just knocked out Godzilla) I have Resilience! (big high note before the camera freezes with me in mid-air)
And that's just some of what heroes are made of.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod
Viewing the elements of my OCD as super powers has significantly changed my outlook on life. I now look for ways to use my amazing abilities to help people. The best part is when they don't know about the "crazy". They only know that I can be a handy guy to have around. I've learned that, many times, other people don't see it as an illness as long as I don't.
The other side of the coin is that I've got this Greatest American Hero thing going on. I've got the suit and the powers, but learning to use them for the good of mankind is its own adventure. But the great part about writing a blog is that you get to tag along.
Ok, so let's take a look at exactly what my powers are. The first thing that comes to mind is an ability that I've found to be common among OCDers. It is supernatural Resilience. Seriously, how many of us have survived a stress load that would have leveled normal people and, yet, we're still kicking.
I had an in-depth discussion recently on Facebook with some close friends about the top ten superheroes of all time. We deliberated extensively about what criteria should be used to measure these titanic icons. Many factors were weighed and debated, but one thing we all agreed upon was resilience. A top notch superhero absolutely must be hard to kill. Using that criteria alone, we OCD folks qualify in spades.
I believe that Resilience, more than anything else, is what sets us apart. After 36 years of anxiety, fear, and the shear burden of literally thousands of daily rituals I found myself losing my grip on sanity, but I never considered giving up.
All through grade school, middle school, high school, and college I endured being misunderstood, misdiagnosed, and mistreated. I simply absorbed inhuman amounts of abuse and ridicule from employers, teachers, coaches, and even pastors. But it never occurred to me to quit.
I've been knocked down more times than I can count and I always get back up. In the old days I assumed that it was my job to swallow the sin for other people. And regular beatings were part of the deal. That was before I realized that I could be more than an emotional dumpster for the issues of others.
Now I see myself more like Rocky Balboa. I've taken beatings that should have killed me, but (start the inspiring theme music here) now I'm coming back. I have balance, I have strength, and I'm hard to kill.
So take heart, my friends. (climbing the steps now) What does not kill us really will only make us stronger. (building up steam) I have my meds. (taking the last rows two at a time) I have my Coach. (reaching the top) I have the support of my family and friends, but most importantly (jumping up and down like I just knocked out Godzilla) I have Resilience! (big high note before the camera freezes with me in mid-air)
And that's just some of what heroes are made of.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod
Friday, June 3, 2011
Self-Loathing is Not a Super Power
Day 465
In keeping with my renewed commitment to this blog, I made time yesterday to read up on what my OCD Blogging friends were up to (check out their blogs for yourself in my links section). I discovered a handful of them were dealing with the issue of self-loathing. As any of you who struggle with OCD know, this is one of the major issues we face. It was a monumental hurdle for me and one of the most significant breakthroughs I have experienced so far.
Like most people with OCD, I never thought much of myself. As a child, I can remember the shock I would feel when anyone expressed an interest in me. I lived with constant chaos in my head, so I made the assumption that being around me must be as excruciating as being me. Therefore, it never occurred to me that anyone would voluntarily subject himself or herself to that kind of aggravation. The struggle was exasperated by the fact that I was hiding the "crazy". In order to keep my secret, I had to allow people to believe things about me that weren't true. For instance, I had so many rituals to perform on a daily basis, by the time I was a teen that I could never be ready to leave or arrive somewhere on time. I had a choice to make. I could either tell people about my issues or just let them think that I was arrogant or self-centered and that I just didn't care about being on time. I chose the latter, because it allowed me to keep my secret.
Keeping the secret was damaging in many ways, but I was thoroughly convinced that, if people knew what was really going on, they would dislike me as much as I did. I made a practice out of taking the blame and the punishment for things other people did, because I believed it to be a strange form of nobility. By the time I reached adulthood, it was common for me to go around looking for opportunities to step in front of oncoming emotional trains. I began every sentence with, "I'm sorry..." I gave away all personal power and surrendered to the idea that I was simply destined for martyrdom. I became the sin eater for everyone around me absorbing as much blame, guilt, shame, and responsibility as I could stand. This was my service, my means of redemption - a way to make something of value out of my worthless existence.
You can see how therapy and I were bound to collide. Coach had his work cut out for him, but this was not his first rodeo. He helped me to see some very important factors. Here they are:
"I don't understand why people love me when I don't love me."
It doesn't matter! What matters is that they do! And, because they do, I get the undeserved privilege of accepting and returning their love. Not only that, I have the responsibility to accept and return their love.
"They shouldn't love me. If I were them, I wouldn't love me."
It doesn't matter! I'm not them! People have the free choice to love whom they choose and it is horrifically unfair, not to mention totally impossible, for me to try to deny them that freedom. The only choice I have is to make them thankful or miserable because of it.
"By withdrawing, I'm limiting the number of good people exposed to my crazy."
No I'm not! I'm simply causing all of those good people to wonder why I'm so angry, hurt, or whatever else they believe because I'm not talking. Just like love, people have the freedom to subject themselves to whom they choose and it is ridiculous to think that I can control that. They obviously love me when they don't even know what's really wrong. Finally having an explanation and getting to be part of the solution can only help.
Look, I'm most likely stuck with this thing in some form for the rest of my life, so I had to decide which parts I would embrace and which parts had to go. I believed I was only hurting myself and that somehow I deserved it, however that wasn't true. My self-loathing did the most damage to my friends and family who pledged to love me no matter what. If I was such a terrible person, what did that say about my friends choice of companions? What did it say about my wife's choice of a mate? What did that say about the very genes that made my children who they were? I had a decision to make and I'm better for my choice. Take it from me, self-loathing is not a super power.
In keeping with my renewed commitment to this blog, I made time yesterday to read up on what my OCD Blogging friends were up to (check out their blogs for yourself in my links section). I discovered a handful of them were dealing with the issue of self-loathing. As any of you who struggle with OCD know, this is one of the major issues we face. It was a monumental hurdle for me and one of the most significant breakthroughs I have experienced so far.
Like most people with OCD, I never thought much of myself. As a child, I can remember the shock I would feel when anyone expressed an interest in me. I lived with constant chaos in my head, so I made the assumption that being around me must be as excruciating as being me. Therefore, it never occurred to me that anyone would voluntarily subject himself or herself to that kind of aggravation. The struggle was exasperated by the fact that I was hiding the "crazy". In order to keep my secret, I had to allow people to believe things about me that weren't true. For instance, I had so many rituals to perform on a daily basis, by the time I was a teen that I could never be ready to leave or arrive somewhere on time. I had a choice to make. I could either tell people about my issues or just let them think that I was arrogant or self-centered and that I just didn't care about being on time. I chose the latter, because it allowed me to keep my secret.
Keeping the secret was damaging in many ways, but I was thoroughly convinced that, if people knew what was really going on, they would dislike me as much as I did. I made a practice out of taking the blame and the punishment for things other people did, because I believed it to be a strange form of nobility. By the time I reached adulthood, it was common for me to go around looking for opportunities to step in front of oncoming emotional trains. I began every sentence with, "I'm sorry..." I gave away all personal power and surrendered to the idea that I was simply destined for martyrdom. I became the sin eater for everyone around me absorbing as much blame, guilt, shame, and responsibility as I could stand. This was my service, my means of redemption - a way to make something of value out of my worthless existence.
You can see how therapy and I were bound to collide. Coach had his work cut out for him, but this was not his first rodeo. He helped me to see some very important factors. Here they are:
"I don't understand why people love me when I don't love me."
It doesn't matter! What matters is that they do! And, because they do, I get the undeserved privilege of accepting and returning their love. Not only that, I have the responsibility to accept and return their love.
"They shouldn't love me. If I were them, I wouldn't love me."
It doesn't matter! I'm not them! People have the free choice to love whom they choose and it is horrifically unfair, not to mention totally impossible, for me to try to deny them that freedom. The only choice I have is to make them thankful or miserable because of it.
"By withdrawing, I'm limiting the number of good people exposed to my crazy."
No I'm not! I'm simply causing all of those good people to wonder why I'm so angry, hurt, or whatever else they believe because I'm not talking. Just like love, people have the freedom to subject themselves to whom they choose and it is ridiculous to think that I can control that. They obviously love me when they don't even know what's really wrong. Finally having an explanation and getting to be part of the solution can only help.
Look, I'm most likely stuck with this thing in some form for the rest of my life, so I had to decide which parts I would embrace and which parts had to go. I believed I was only hurting myself and that somehow I deserved it, however that wasn't true. My self-loathing did the most damage to my friends and family who pledged to love me no matter what. If I was such a terrible person, what did that say about my friends choice of companions? What did it say about my wife's choice of a mate? What did that say about the very genes that made my children who they were? I had a decision to make and I'm better for my choice. Take it from me, self-loathing is not a super power.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Your eyes are getting sleepy...
Day 463
I just wanted to leave a quick note about a great way to get to sleep. No, this is not an advertisement, I'm not trying to get you into my down-line, and this is definitely not your path to financial freedom. It's way more normal than that, it's hypnosis!
I had been trying different things to help me sleep better when I remembered something from my college days. My roommate had a tape, yes I said tape as in cassette, remember those?
Anyway he had this tape of some guy teaching you how to hypnotize yourself. We used to listen to it after all-nighters to catch up on z's--and it really worked.
I looked on iTunes and found several hypnosis apps. The best ones were by a British guy named Glenn Harrold. If you want to get to sleep and wake up ready to go, Glenn is your guy.
Check him out and let me know what you think. But experiment at your own risk. If you develop sudden urges to bark like a cat, it's not my fault.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod
I just wanted to leave a quick note about a great way to get to sleep. No, this is not an advertisement, I'm not trying to get you into my down-line, and this is definitely not your path to financial freedom. It's way more normal than that, it's hypnosis!
I had been trying different things to help me sleep better when I remembered something from my college days. My roommate had a tape, yes I said tape as in cassette, remember those?
Anyway he had this tape of some guy teaching you how to hypnotize yourself. We used to listen to it after all-nighters to catch up on z's--and it really worked.
I looked on iTunes and found several hypnosis apps. The best ones were by a British guy named Glenn Harrold. If you want to get to sleep and wake up ready to go, Glenn is your guy.
Check him out and let me know what you think. But experiment at your own risk. If you develop sudden urges to bark like a cat, it's not my fault.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod
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