Decisions, decisions...

I've been getting some flack from a few people about my diminishing blog output. After some consideration, I've sat my ass down here to do a post. I'm trying to decided whether to write a blog post about 'embarrassing crushes from your youth' or a post about me considering going on psychiatric medication.

Oh, what the hell, I'll combine the two! ;-)

I received an email from a friend about embarrassing crushes from your youth - David Cassidy, Donny Osmond, blah, blah, blah, etc. I personally don't think they're embarrassing... popular crushes, yeah but not embarrassing. Everybody had a crush on David Cassidy. Even my brother liked David bloody Cassidy. It's not embarrassing.

Having a crush Fonzie, not Henry Winkler who played him, but the actual character The Fonz is embarrassing...

Who's your embarrassing crush from your youth? C'mon, fess up... (I can't wait for Naldo's confessional.)

As I was thinking about the above, I happened upon a website about the 70s. Neil, Naldo, Chris, Jayne, P and other Scotland people might find this amusing. The Bay City Rollers. I just, I mean like five minutes ago, found out that they were/are actually Scottish! lol! I always thought that they were from Michigan. LMFAO!

And here might be a good place to discuss psychiatric medication. ;-)

One of the reasons for my reduced blogging, both writing my own and commenting on other people's blogs (although I still read them), is that I'm not doing too well emotionally/psychologically. Yucky enough that I'm considering getting on something; an SSRI or something. Something I said 'never again' to about nine years ago when I stopped taking Paxil/Seroxat.

I've discussed it with Ms Shrinkychick (who is a psychologist, not a psychiatrist, and so can not really advise) and we talked about anxious minds, evolution, the genetic lottery, the unknowns of the mind and medications, the ups and downs of therapy, choices and that ultimately the choice is mine.

I'm not bothered by any sense of shame or stigma in taking medication. I'm bothered by knowing how difficult it was for me to get off the medication many years ago. It was horrible... and that when I was on a highish dose of Paxil I lost my ability to have an orgasm! When you're feeling down and your pleasures are simple, that's a very cruel side effect. Interestingly, there's also a rare side effect of having an orgasm every time you yawn... I sacrificed dozens of small animal in hopes of getting that one. ;-) No luck though.

I'm not sure what to do. Much thinking to do. Any comments or experiences would be cool. Decisions, decisions...

Courage

I've been thinking a lot about courage lately; what it is? where'd mine go? where can I get some? why aren't my testicles sprouting?

I thought I'd ask the blogosphere:

What helps you feel courageous? What gives you courage?

Head shrinkage

New therapist, new book. Both improved!

A few weeks ago I had a horrible session with the therapy dude. He made a serious judgment error and completely lost my trust. He threw back at me all of my life issues (father's death, lack of real life support, personal rejections, etc) and said, "these are all the little stories you are using for not dealing with my OCD."

I felt 2" tall leaving his office, completely belittled, humiliated and beyond help. I reached out for help and got my hands slapped. As soon as I drove away, I was a mess of tears and dark thoughts. How I got home is a mystery to me. I hope he's reading this.

Later I thought, "Little stories? Excuses? WTF? These are my life circumstances. I'm not in denial about my OCD and that I need help. That's why I'm here in your fucking office feeling incredibly scared and fragile and requesting help, ffs! And you rip me to fucking shreds. You fucking asshole." Now I really hope he's reading this.

After some supportive words from friends (blows kisses), I get my nerve back and I go see a new psychologist.

Enter, Ms Shrinkychick! Kind, understanding, knowledgeable, etc... instant trust. Whew! I've seen her now a few times and though I'm terrified about what I'm going to be facing at least I feel that she's on my side.

Wow. Writing this has been good I think. I didn't realise the full extent that that bad experience had had on me.

(wipes tears)

Ok, back to writing.

Ms Shrinkychick recommended a book which I went out and bought right away cos I'm sooo obedient (snort):
http://www.amazon.com/Mindfulness-Acceptance-Workbook-Anxiety-Commitment/dp/1572244992/

I read Chapter 1 in the parking lot and cried like a baby (again). The authors wrote (along the lines of) 'this may stir a lot of anxious feelings but that's ok, let them be there. Just keep holding on the book and moving your eyes and read a bit more." I found that incredibly comforting. The authors really do understand the terror and that encourages my trust.

It's another ACT (acceptance and commitment therapy) book, similar to one I read previously though geared strictly towards anxiety disorders. That is much more reassuring to me as OCD is way beyond 'normal' life worries - the Happiness Trap was a good intro but I often felt it was not geared towards my experience.

It scares the crap out of me though, learning this new way of being with my anxiety - instead of not responding to its warnings as I do. Intellectually, it makes sense to me. Emotionally, I feel as though I'm risking my life. Seriously. I feel that I may actually die if I do not listen to what my OCD tells me to do.

It's like how I imagine doing a skydive. Intellectually, I know there's a small chance of dying but really it's safer than most activities. But! Emotionally, I imagine standing at the door high above the ground, looking out, with all the 'warning' emotions and survival instincts screaming, 'Don't jump! don't jump! Are you fucking crazy!!??'

This pic (swiped from here) sort of captures how I feel:



I'm in a plane about to either jump or get pushed! Holy fuckeroni!

La folie de doute.

That's what the French called it; the madness of doubt, the doubting disease. Though classified as an anxiety disorder, OCD is at it's core about doubt and uncertainty, at least in my experience and from what I've read. It's about wanting 100% guarantees; difficulties in accepting risk and having your mind constantly whisper insidiously 'what if?'.

It's like that feeling you might get a few miles after leaving your home when you think 'did I turn off the iron?' and you can't remember for sure and you can't shake the thought and you get freaked out by the possibilities it contains. OCD's like that but on steroids. At least when the OCD is flaring up, as it is for me currently.

I'm going to empty my head a bit...

I'm feeling very fucked up by it all; very anxious, very on edge, very frightened.

I'm hoping that just typing the following helps in some small way. You'll think this is fucking nuts... and that's ok cos I do too.

My irrational fears, my irrational thoughts, my 'what if?'s, my OCD revolves around the idea of contracting rabies. I fear that I will some how catch it... what if?, what if?, what if?...

I can accept doubt and risk and uncertainty in most areas of life, like anyone else can and does. In fact, I am often drawn to ideas, artworks, films that contain uncertainty and doubt and I have had moments in my life of being a risk taker. But, for whatever reason, I am hooked by this rabies fear. I am finding it very difficult to live with the uncertainty, the inability to get that 100% guarantee that I'm safe. And it's affecting my life in a very not so nice way.

Sometimes (a lot of times lately) I fucking hate my mind.


Aside: I have no idea about the photo. I plonked in 'la folie de doute' in Google and there he was... who can I resist a naked man, with a handlebar moustache, riding backwards on a dead cheetah while holding a sword?

I'm 96 years old

And I've been asked to look back and to answer three questions:

What do you wish you spent less time doing?

I wish I had spent less time:
- trying to make my family be the family that I needed
- taking my anxiety producing 'what ifs?' so seriously (OCD)
- avoiding things because of fear, anxiety and uncertainty (OCD)
- waiting for my hearing to get magically better
- maintaining relationships that were frustrating and draining
- hiding under my duvet
- thinking that I was ugly
- thinking that I was inherently unlovable
- and feeling like a mistake who should not have been born


What do you wish you spent more time doing?

I wish that I had spent more time:
- sticking with important stuff even when times got difficult
- traveling and exploring
- learning the skills to express my creativity
- seeking and being with people who understood and appreciated me
- accepting that pain, sadness and anxiety are unavoidable in life
- learning about art, art history and film making
- being more clear about who I am with myself and others
- doing something that mattered to me that was meaningful
- and making a positive difference to something or someone.


What do you wish you had started doing when you were 41 years old?

I wish that I had started:
- to figure out how to live fully despite OCD fears and anxiety
- using my strengths to help me with my weaknesses
- a fire under my ass! ;-)

Edited - I should have made it clearer that most the anxiety that I'm discussing above is OCD related.