Ok, so after a successful ocd awareness week challenging others perceptions of ocd, I decided it was time to challenge my perception of my ow ocd! I have 2 choices, I can control the ocd or it can control me, and so far the ocd has been more in control than I have, so it's time for a change, time to put myself first and take charge, and there is no better way to do that than to completely overload yourself with challenges.
I now have 3 challenges set for myself, each of which will challenge me and my ocd to the max. My first challenge is to get fit, lose weight and start running again. I used to love running, it was a chance to clear my head, push my body and improve my state of mind. Before having Bobo (in fact 1 week pregnant), with the help and encouragement of OCDUK I actually ran the British 10k, something I never believed I would do. But since then, motherhood and ocd have gotten in the way, so tonight I go running for the first time in 3 years. The anxiety of it is killing, what if I'm too slow, what if I make a fool of myself, what if I suck and everyone hates me? What if while I'm out doing something for myself, something bad happens to someone I love? It would be my fault for not being there to stop it or make things better! My ocd brain is screaming at me not to go, but I'm determined to do it, to get out there, work hard and start enjoying running again. I know it's going to be hard work physically and mentally, but if I don't do it I will never achieve my goals and it will just be another victory for the ocd, and I'm sick of ocd winning. Surely it's my turn!
The second challenge is to swim a mile in a lake, something I agreed to in a moment of sheer madness I think, but it serves 2 purposes, firstly raising much needed funds for OCDUK and secondly to challenge my ocd again. Swimming in a lake posses many problems for me, mainly being that I'm so unfit I can hardly swim 10 metres let alone a mile! On top of this is the fear of failure, the fear of turning up late, the fear of drowning and (yes, I know this one is stupid) the fear of fish swimming near me, bluugggghhhhhhh. I have no idea why, but being in the water with fish freaks me out, maybe I watched on too many piranha films lol. So for me this challenge is huge, but hopefully I won't be alone and it's all for a good cause.
My 3rd challenge is organising a photo shoot to raise money for OCDUK. In my head I've got it all planned, but I fear my need for perfection and my ocd are starting to unravel the threads! I'm already panicking, what if I make a huge mess of it? What if it's so badly organised that everyone ends up angry and disappointed? What if no one turns out? What if I write some thing wrong in an email or say something wrong ? What if it's not perfect for everyone? What if what if what if................... My ocd is spinning with delight at this, probably because this one is most important to me. This is my baby and I want it to go well so that we all have fun and raise money and make it a great relaxing day!! I know my friends are there to help, I have an amazing photographer who is understanding and patient, and the support of my wonderful husband. But I still fear the worst, I fear my ocd!
But isn't that the point? To feel the fear and do it anyway. I don't want to be a sufferer any more, I want to be a warrior. I want to fight against ocd, not just for myself, but for everyone affected by it. I might not be able to win the war, but I can fight and hopefully conquer some ground.
I suppose it all comes down to how I deal with my ocd and whether or not I survive my first run tonight!
Tuesday 12 November 2013
Friday 1 November 2013
Home sweet home
Hey folks, are we all sitting comfortably around the campfire? Well, I think it's time for a sing song,
"Hhhhhoooommmeeeeee,
home on the .................."
Oh wait, where is home?
"Home, Noun
The place or a place
where one lives.
A house or dwelling.
A family or other group
living in a house or
other place.
A persons country, city
etc esp viewed as a
birthplace, a residence
during ones early years,
or a place dear to one"
Collins Dictionary
There are more definitions, but I'm not sure sports analogies are going to be very useful here.
When a person thinks of home, they usually think of the place they live now, the place they have settled, made a nest, called home. Others think of the place they grew up, no matter where they live, when they return to their birthplace they consider it returning home. Some consider it the country they are from. When returning from holiday or working abroad, they are coming home. Whatever the case, home is usually a place of comfort and security. But what if you don't get that sense from the word 'home', what if, like me, you are a nomad?
I call where I live now 'home' as a generic term, mainly as it's shorter to say "I'm off home" then "I'm going back to the place where I live now". But I never get a sense of settling, of putting down roots. In fact, for me, it's the opposite. I'm always waiting to move on, to get going again. It sounds awful, I know. Here I am, married with a family, and I'm saying I don't feel at home! Don't get me wrong, I love what I have here, and it's no reflection on my family, I just don't like to put down roots or 'making myself at home'. I'm not comfortable staying in one place or not being able to move on. I don't like becoming attached to things because no matter what, eventually you become unattached!!!!!!!
I've always been a nomad, maybe because it means you don't have to work do hard to fit in if you are always moving on. To me, that notion is fantastic. I hate the fact that I have always felt like I don't fit, that I have to try harder then everyone else. I become a chameleon, changing to fit in with every occasion, to make everyone happy. Surely it's easier and less exhausting to keep moving, to purposely be the outsider, because it's painful to be the outsider in your own home!
Home for many is a place to run to when things get tough or you need help or comfort. In these times my instinct is to run away from, not to, home. Maybe that makes me a coward or selfish, but for me it's a way to defend myself, to protect myself against harm. Running away gives me a chance to breath, to get my head straight. That way I can bury the pain deep, hide my weakness and come back fighting. Is this not the way everyone reacts? No? Just me then!!!
As an ocd sufferer I am constantly searching for perfection, another cause of anguish when it comes to 'home'. Home, for me, is where everything should be perfect, has to be right, and the problem is that I can never make home perfect because no matter what I do to make home perfect, I will never be perfect and therefore home will never be perfect with me in it! So instead I shy away from home, always itching to move again, to start off again on another adventure!
Is it any wonder I called this blog a campsite and not a home, or office or other permanent structure?? Maybe even my ocd doesn't feel 'at home'!
I'm still hopeful that one day all this running and adventure will bring me back to where I belong, that one day this long trek will bring me back home!
"Hhhhhoooommmeeeeee,
home on the .................."
Oh wait, where is home?
"Home, Noun
The place or a place
where one lives.
A house or dwelling.
A family or other group
living in a house or
other place.
A persons country, city
etc esp viewed as a
birthplace, a residence
during ones early years,
or a place dear to one"
Collins Dictionary
There are more definitions, but I'm not sure sports analogies are going to be very useful here.
When a person thinks of home, they usually think of the place they live now, the place they have settled, made a nest, called home. Others think of the place they grew up, no matter where they live, when they return to their birthplace they consider it returning home. Some consider it the country they are from. When returning from holiday or working abroad, they are coming home. Whatever the case, home is usually a place of comfort and security. But what if you don't get that sense from the word 'home', what if, like me, you are a nomad?
I call where I live now 'home' as a generic term, mainly as it's shorter to say "I'm off home" then "I'm going back to the place where I live now". But I never get a sense of settling, of putting down roots. In fact, for me, it's the opposite. I'm always waiting to move on, to get going again. It sounds awful, I know. Here I am, married with a family, and I'm saying I don't feel at home! Don't get me wrong, I love what I have here, and it's no reflection on my family, I just don't like to put down roots or 'making myself at home'. I'm not comfortable staying in one place or not being able to move on. I don't like becoming attached to things because no matter what, eventually you become unattached!!!!!!!
I've always been a nomad, maybe because it means you don't have to work do hard to fit in if you are always moving on. To me, that notion is fantastic. I hate the fact that I have always felt like I don't fit, that I have to try harder then everyone else. I become a chameleon, changing to fit in with every occasion, to make everyone happy. Surely it's easier and less exhausting to keep moving, to purposely be the outsider, because it's painful to be the outsider in your own home!
Home for many is a place to run to when things get tough or you need help or comfort. In these times my instinct is to run away from, not to, home. Maybe that makes me a coward or selfish, but for me it's a way to defend myself, to protect myself against harm. Running away gives me a chance to breath, to get my head straight. That way I can bury the pain deep, hide my weakness and come back fighting. Is this not the way everyone reacts? No? Just me then!!!
As an ocd sufferer I am constantly searching for perfection, another cause of anguish when it comes to 'home'. Home, for me, is where everything should be perfect, has to be right, and the problem is that I can never make home perfect because no matter what I do to make home perfect, I will never be perfect and therefore home will never be perfect with me in it! So instead I shy away from home, always itching to move again, to start off again on another adventure!
Is it any wonder I called this blog a campsite and not a home, or office or other permanent structure?? Maybe even my ocd doesn't feel 'at home'!
I'm still hopeful that one day all this running and adventure will bring me back to where I belong, that one day this long trek will bring me back home!
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