Ultimatums for the Faint of Heart, Part I

This is not really going to be a funny entry. Sorry ‘bout it, folks. This is about mental health—which I implied earlier I’d talk about, but hadn’t gotten around to until now. Before reading the rest of this post, here are four things you ought to know:

1)      Sharing is scary. Also, I will probably forget I posted this and when you see me in real life and ask how my OCD is I will stare at you and ask under my breath, “HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT.”

2)      I’m doing very well with my anxiety right now, thanks for asking.

3)      There is no way my words are going to be able to express the intensity of anxiety, so you’re just gonna have to trust me that it’s a real thing, and that it can be a HORRIBLE real thing.

4)      It may seem like this is a deviation from the regular topic of “Argentina.” But guess what? This relates to every area of my life, so it applies to my time in Argetina too. Suck it up.

 

For some nonsensical reason, during high school it seemed like I was the only person with deep-seated issues. When I went to college, I realized that was a load of poo-poo and that pretty much everyone has at least one big problem that has been really formative in their lives. Rape…. Abuse…..Addiction….. Disorders….. you’d truly be hard pressed to find someone who’s encountered only smooth sailing during the span of their years.

The lot that fell to me just happens to be Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Based on genetics and my occasionally anal personality, I managed to develop a very specific subdivision of OCD called “Scrupulosity.” In order to help me describe this affliction, I will defer to a book specifically about the subject:

proof that it's a thing I didn't just make up

 

 

In the first chapter, Ciarrocchi gives a very simple, concise definition of this burden:
 

"The term 'scrupulosity' refers to seeing sin where there is none. Some call it a 'phobia concerning sin.' The person judges personal behavior as immoral that one's faith community would see as blameless."

 

That's the gist of it. I worry about sinning. Laugh if you want. But the human brain has a funny way of making mundane things REALLY, REALLY scary for no particular reason.

Some people with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder worry that they left the stove on and accidentally burned their house down. Some find it physically impossible to leave a room unless they take a certain number of steps on the way to the door. This, while it sounds trivial, can cause the sufferer an incredible amount of mental anguish. I tend to  worry about things like:

1) Copywright law
2) Jaywalking
3) Being completely, 100% honest on paperwork
4) Actually reading Terms and Conditions
 

 

Let me be clear: you can worry about stuff like that and not be "Obsessive Compulsive." (A rule of thumb is that if a worry greatly and regularly impedes your everyday functions, it's more than a "normal" level of worry.) You can also be Obsessive Compulsive AND worry about those same things and still NOT be scrupulous.

Scrupulosity is linked distinctly to "the religious." For OCD to be considered scrupulosity, something about your obsessions has to link to religion, whether you yourself are actually religious or not. Some people obsessively repeat prayers. Some confess the same sin multiple times.

My "base fear" (what all my obsessions revolve around and my compulsions attempt to assuage) is that God is going to send me to hell when I die.


This is probably not going to make sense to you, either because you don't really believe in God/hell or because the equation "repentant sinner + grace of Jesus= going to Heaven" is, like, SOOOOOOO obvious to you.

I agree with you on the equation, really. But there's a difference between intellectually knowing something and knowing it experientially-- i.e., living it out. And the dumb, stupid thing about mental disorders is that they make your own brain lie to you. An eating disorder might make your mind tell you you're fat, and somehow YOU BELIEVE IT even if LITERALLY everything else says otherwise. Depression tells you everything is hopeless and pointless, but it's not... it's just your brain chemistry konking out again. There's even an actual, real disorder that compels you to cut off your own limbs, because you don't feel complete while they're still attached. IT'S REAL, I SWEAR.


Basically, MENTAL DISORDERS MAKE YOU BELIEVE SOMETHING THAT'S NOT TRUE. But the tricky part is, when you're in the middle of a distorted thought process, you can almost never tell. I constantly have to ask myself, "Is this a real worry, or an obsession? Is this something other people would worry about?" And a lot of the time I still can't figure it out. It isn't until later that you can look back with clarity to see where your brain was deceiving you.

 

Sometimes it takes a lot of patience to be around me. Sometimes I make people wait with me for the "walk" signal to turn on so I can cross the street without feeling like an octopus is grabbing my stomach. And sometimes I'm a huge jerk and I make other people try to do things my way because I'm afraid if it's not all perfect I'll go to hell. So it's not just rough on me, it's also hard for the people close to me who have to tolerate my stick-up-the-butt behavior. Maybe my mom's feeling awkward as she reads this because I'm letting so much of my "deep inner life" fly out onto the Internet, but isn't that what we're here for?

To share our burdens and to carry those of others? How can we lean on each other if no one wants to admit they need a cane in the first place? Or, to hearken back to the wee beginnings of my blog, How can people love us as we really are if we never let them see us naked?


To recap:
Sometimes I'm a jerk, but I'm not always a jerk.
I still deal with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder on the daily, but it's about 80-90% better than it was four years ago.
I hate breaking laws.
I'm trying to "be naked" for the glory of God.


This is the first of two posts on this topic. If you made it all the way to the end of this one, I ask that you would please read the second as well. (The next one has all the mind-blowing metaphors.)

 

P.S. My family is pretty darn good at tolerating and I love them a lot.