Kmac1286
09-05-16, 04:25
Hey everyone,
I can't tell you how many times a google search has landed me at No More Panic over the past many years. I finally joined today.
I was first diagnosed with OCD 6 years ago, and right now my symptoms are "okay." I say okay because as I was describing to my husband just last week, it's like this monster that lives in my house, always threatening to destroy me. I keep it happy, I keep it away, and I'm always aware that I'm living with a wild thing that could take over or destroy my life. It's never far from my mind, but for now, me and the monster are okay.
I just wanted to drop in and say hi finally.
I'll briefly share how my compulsions manifest:
I obsess over my health and the health of my son. He's seven now, and my obsession over his health and well being began the day I found out I was pregnant. So that's fun. :winks:
I'm terrified of cancer. I turned 30 this year, and for whatever reason, I've had it in my head ever since I was little that I was going to die in my 30's or 40's. My mother lost her mother very young, and I remember when she was in her 30's and 40's, she obsessively worried over all kinds of health issues that ended up being nothing. She will be 60 this year, but her fears over dying young like her mother were deeply ingrained in me. Some days are better than others.
I was obsessively worried about losing my son when he was little until my darkest fears manifested in front me when one of my close friends suddenly and tragically lost her 4 year old in 2015. This past year has been terribly hard. Being there for her the day her baby girl died left me with PTSD and I feared a return of my OCD symptoms (obsessively searching symptoms online, running my hands down my son's back nightly to feel for tumors, praying to an obsessive, incessant point thinking if I lost touch with God for even a few moments, he would let my little boy get sick or die). However, it seemed to be kind of an immersion therapy for me. My friend and I are still close, and I've seen her face that full first year without her daughter. She's still alive. She's not drinking herself into a stupor. She's not suicidal. She has bad days of course, but I think being there next to her as she's walked through my darkest fears has forced me to face the next stage of my fears: Life after. It does go on.
So that's me. I used to take countless pictures of my son with the flash on to try and capture a reflection I heard about that appears sometimes in children with a rare corneal tumor. I'd run my hands up and down his back at bath time to feel for tumors. Eventually I got so scared of finding a tumor that I couldn't bathe him anymore, something most mothers cherish as a special bonding time with their young babies. I missed out on that. I'd pace and cry and beg God nightly to protect him from brain eating amoebas, rare MRSA infections, check him for bruises nightly, photograph bruises to check for changes, the list goes on and on.
I still live in fear sometimes of my own health.... That hasn't been overcome.
Thanks for letting me drop in on your little online world. You've been so helpful and comforting to me over the years, and I'm pleased to now join you all officially.
-K
I can't tell you how many times a google search has landed me at No More Panic over the past many years. I finally joined today.
I was first diagnosed with OCD 6 years ago, and right now my symptoms are "okay." I say okay because as I was describing to my husband just last week, it's like this monster that lives in my house, always threatening to destroy me. I keep it happy, I keep it away, and I'm always aware that I'm living with a wild thing that could take over or destroy my life. It's never far from my mind, but for now, me and the monster are okay.
I just wanted to drop in and say hi finally.
I'll briefly share how my compulsions manifest:
I obsess over my health and the health of my son. He's seven now, and my obsession over his health and well being began the day I found out I was pregnant. So that's fun. :winks:
I'm terrified of cancer. I turned 30 this year, and for whatever reason, I've had it in my head ever since I was little that I was going to die in my 30's or 40's. My mother lost her mother very young, and I remember when she was in her 30's and 40's, she obsessively worried over all kinds of health issues that ended up being nothing. She will be 60 this year, but her fears over dying young like her mother were deeply ingrained in me. Some days are better than others.
I was obsessively worried about losing my son when he was little until my darkest fears manifested in front me when one of my close friends suddenly and tragically lost her 4 year old in 2015. This past year has been terribly hard. Being there for her the day her baby girl died left me with PTSD and I feared a return of my OCD symptoms (obsessively searching symptoms online, running my hands down my son's back nightly to feel for tumors, praying to an obsessive, incessant point thinking if I lost touch with God for even a few moments, he would let my little boy get sick or die). However, it seemed to be kind of an immersion therapy for me. My friend and I are still close, and I've seen her face that full first year without her daughter. She's still alive. She's not drinking herself into a stupor. She's not suicidal. She has bad days of course, but I think being there next to her as she's walked through my darkest fears has forced me to face the next stage of my fears: Life after. It does go on.
So that's me. I used to take countless pictures of my son with the flash on to try and capture a reflection I heard about that appears sometimes in children with a rare corneal tumor. I'd run my hands up and down his back at bath time to feel for tumors. Eventually I got so scared of finding a tumor that I couldn't bathe him anymore, something most mothers cherish as a special bonding time with their young babies. I missed out on that. I'd pace and cry and beg God nightly to protect him from brain eating amoebas, rare MRSA infections, check him for bruises nightly, photograph bruises to check for changes, the list goes on and on.
I still live in fear sometimes of my own health.... That hasn't been overcome.
Thanks for letting me drop in on your little online world. You've been so helpful and comforting to me over the years, and I'm pleased to now join you all officially.
-K