Temporarily Enabled

Okay, so I was eavesdropping! I overheard one woman talking to two others and using the term, “temporarily enabled” as opposed to disabled. One of the others mentioned how wonderful it is that God makes each of us special in different ways. I joined in the conversation a bit and agreed with both.

I am “temporarily enabled.” In most ways. My arthritis makes life difficult sometimes so I’m not completely enabled. For several years, OCD made life difficult in many ways. Isn’t that the way it is for all of us? God enables each of us to do what He has purposed us to do. At any point I might lose an ability. At this point, I’d be better suited for a different purpose. I think this is one of the ways God guides us.

And the other overheard comment about how God makes each of us special in different ways … how true! We all need to remind ourselves how special we are, about how God has a purpose for each of us, using the abilities and disabilities, however temporary they are.

Headache Days -- With OCD and Without

Yesterday I had one of my terrible headaches. One that laid me up on the couch all day. In my OCD days, I’d worry about the frequency and cause of the headaches and even more about what I should be doing instead of resting on the couch. Today, I trust what the doctors say, do what I can to prevent the headaches and backaches (both seem to be due to arthritis), and cope with the pain when it comes with rest and medication. I cancel appointments and take a day of rest. I read if I can, crochet and enjoy watching old movies. Instead of worrying and being upset about having a headache, I end up actually being thankful for a day of rest. Besides, worry doesn’t solve anything. My kitties love it when I’m ill! Or it seems that way anyway. They seem to like having a warm still body to lounge on. Melody and Little Kitty take turns keeping me company. Melody becomes a nuisance at night though. She seems worried about me and sleeps on top of me all night. She doesn’t realize that makes it more difficult for me to sleep and aggravates my back pain. Oh well, she really does mean well.

Little Kitty thinks she can crochet!

Melody lounging

Breaking Free

We spend our winters in Texas, in brush country south of San Antonio. We have a cottage surrounded by prairie and mesquite trees we call "Quail Haven" because we've seen quail on our property and we're trying to attract more quail by planting more native grasses and wildflowers they like. Last week we went birding down in the Rio Grande Valley and saw lots of birds we hadn't seen before. I'll share some pictures another time.

I also love spotting butterflies and getting their pictures. I can relate to butterflies, maybe because they've broken free from their cocoons, just as I've broken free from my OCD. That correlation started back in 1996 when my son first made my website -- CherryPedrick.com. He was only 14 at the time, by the way. He asked me for ideas for the website and I said butterflies. And cats. Okay, cats have nothing to do with OCD, I just love cats. With only that to go on he created a great website. Here is a pipevine swallowtail from our birding trip.

Rituals – Exposure is the First Step to Recovery

You can use the process of habituation to fight your OCD by arranging for prolonged exposure to the real-life situations that provoke your anxiety and cause you to perform rituals. For example, if you contamination fears, you could touch something you consider contaminated, and then go as long as you can without relieving your anxiety by washing your hands. If you have a fear of leaving things unchecked, deliberately don’t check or check once then go on to do something else. For example, when you leave the house, lock the door, turn and leave without checking again. Then stay away as long as you can. Maybe only five minutes the first time, then longer the next time.

Sounds easy, right? If you have OCD, you know it’s not as easy as it sounds. Make a list of your fears and start with one you can handle. If you’ve read The OCD Workbook, you know this is called a hierarchy. When you’ve managed one ritual go on to another.

Hand washing

Well, I’m back. My cast is off and my left arm is not very sore. Funny, how something like a broken arm can interfere so much with your life.
I did discover something OCD-related in this experience. I don’t wash my hands excessively anymore, but I am careful to wash my hands at appropriate times. With only my fingers and thumb free my left hand never felt completely clean. Which was a good test of my tolerance. I did fine.

I also noticed that I tried not to wash my hands anymore than necessary just because it was a hassle. Washing but not getting my cast wet and drying my hands was a bit difficult, especially at first because I didn’t have full use of my hand and it hurt to move it much. I waited to use the restroom until I really had to go just because it was such a hassle. I combined tasks and washed my hands afterwards. For example, I would do some food preparation, and then clean the counter before washing my hands.

This makes me wonder, would it be helpful for others, those with full-blown OCD, to maybe pretend they have a broken arm? If excessive hand washing is a problem for you, try this. Pretend one had is bound up or that it is actually painful to wash your hands. It might help you to think before washing and reduce the number of hand washes.

Be Thankful

I hope you all are enjoying this season. If you are struggling with OCD or another anxiety disorder, take a moment to think back on where you were last year, or maybe just last week or yesterday if you’re really new to treatment. Thank God for the small steps and the big steps you’ve been able to take.             

Tell me what you’re thankful for this year.

Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge

We’ll talk about writing here too. How did I become a writer? My first career was nursing. Well, not quite, I spent four hours as a bus girl the summer after high school. Then I got word I had been hired at the local nursing home as an aide. I never worked as hard as those four hours in the restaurant my mother worked in. I remember talking to my aunt on the phone, telling her how tired my feet were and thanking her for paying for nursing school.
In high school I had taken a writing class in my senior year and there my passion for writing was ignited. I wrote my first poem:

Lilacs,
Like some people,
Look nice on a bush,
But not in a vase.

I wasn’t the type to take too many risks, however, and a writing career was a risk. Nursing was safe and I did want to help people. I became a registered nurse and spent twenty years as a nurse. Then, at the age of 40, something happened to my brain, I was suddenly struck by the urge to check. I developed OCD. You can read more about my struggle with OCD at http://CherryPedrick.com

Snowball disappears

Less than a year later, Snowball disappeared. He had been very ill for a couple years and was 18-years-old. We looked all over the house then started to look outside. No Snowball. Then James applied some detective skills. He saw a hole in a grate in the garage and some white fur clinging to the loose wire. James remembered going into the garage earlier that day. Maybe Snowball had followed him into the garage and perhaps escaped through the grate. We reasoned that he was ready to die and went off to do so alone. Animals sometimes do that.
I remember thinking if that had been me, I would have felt so guilty, but James and my husband seemed to just understand that these things just happen. No one blamed him. I certainly didn’t. But I would have blamed myself if Snowball had followed me into the garage, for this was the year OCD struck me with a vengeance.
I had been preparing James for several years that when Snowball died we would get two kittens. Maybe calicos. As it happened, I found two calico kittens who needed a home a few months later. James named his cat Spunky because he wanted a spunky cat. She is not spunky.
I named my cat Melody after the editor of my first published article. The article was about OCD. Melody did turn out to be quite melodious and she turned out to have OCD! Sort of. She stares at pictures and spots on walls. She stares at herself in the mirror. She’s fearful of people, especially young male workers and often hid under the bed when they came to our home when she was a kitten. In her younger years she nervously scratched the furniture – and my arms – until we had her declawed. Melody loves certain people foods and eventually developed diabetes which she has survived for seven years. Before sugar was taken away from her one of her favorite things was licking and playing with jelly beans. She’d chase them until they were lost under the couch, then ask for another.
Melody has a reputation for being a “crazy” cat because she lashes out at people other than me. She’s really just giving a little warning because she’s fearful and she feels like she’s being teased. Because her reputation precedes her people tend to approach her with caution, and it does seem like she is being teased. She’s more anxious than the other cats and I could relate to that. Over the years, as she’s aged, she’s mellowed and doesn’t seem as anxious. She cuddles more and seems more relaxed. And so am I! It’s as if we’ve both recovered together.

Before Melody … Snowball the Cat

1994 was the year I was diagnosed with OCD. It was also the year our cat Snowball disappeared and Melody came into our home. The year before OCD hadn’t arisen in my life. I wasn’t having problems with checking the door or questioning my decisions. But something very traumatic did happen. To me it was traumatic anyway. I still don’t know why I got so upset. Perhaps that was the beginnings of OCD, the beginnings of my brain changing.

My son James had gone on a business trip with his Dad, leaving me home to work and take care of Snowball and James’ two pet rats. About two days before they returned I looked in on the rats and was devastated to find them both dead in the cage. They still had a bit of food and water, but I chastised myself for not checking on them enough. Maybe they didn’t get enough to eat. Snowball didn’t really like the rats and it could be they were literally scared to death.

I had to wait over 24 hours to tell my son about the rats because he and his dad would be on the road, traveling back home. This was before cell phones. I cried hysterically, sure he would be upset and perhaps even turn to a life of drugs and debauchery because of this horrible thing. I’d been told, “Yes, he’s a fine boy now at 11, but just wait, he’ll be a teenager soon.” I’d been watching, but so far he was still fine, but this could be the turning point.

Finally, my husband Jim and James called and I told them. James said, “Okay, Mom.” That was it. “Okay, Mom.” When they got home we buried the rats under the tree in the front yard. A few weeks later two plants sprouted. Corn! Maize actually, God’s reminder to us that life goes on.

I learned from this that children are resilient. We often blow things up out of proportion. They not only survive, they thrive. I needed to remind myself of this over the years when I was diagnosed with OCD. James was affected by my OCD. I tried not to burden him with it, but I knew he was. My questions – “Did I lock the door? Are you sure? Should I go back and check? Do you think I hit something with the car? Did I lock the car door?” Calling him into the bathroom to search the floor for a pill that I may or may not have dropped on the floor. Doing without because my income was cut when I changed careers. The list goes on.

Not only did James thrive, he grew to be an exceptional young man. He has compassion for those in need and in college his heart was touched by the AIDS crisis in sub-Saharan Africa, leading him to found Acting on AIDS, an AIDS awareness program for World Vision. He is now World Vision's advisor for college activism and social networking.

http://www.worldvision.org/news.nsf/news/what-is-advocacy-200907-enews

Breaking Free

In the last few years I haven’t had a presence on the Internet. No blog. My website hasn’t been updated. I haven’t been on OCD email lists. Why? It has to do with how I identify myself.
As a Christian I’ve always, first of all, found my identity in Christ, as a child of God. This sustained me through my struggle with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). In 1994, I was diagnosed with OCD. I still identified myself as a Christian and as a wife, mother and nurse, but more and more I identified myself as a person with OCD.

The first book I coauthored was titled The OCD Workbook, Your Guide to Breaking Free from Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and I considered myself to be breaking free. When Bruce Hyman and I revised it in 2005 I identified less with OCD because it was taking up so little of my life. Now, as we’re completing the third edition of The OCD Workbook, I can say I have broken free. Not cured – there is no cure and I must be vigilant. But free of the grip OCD once had on my life.

Now, instead of withdrawing from being identified with OCD, I’m more willing to embrace it. With this blog I want to celebrate breaking free and give people hope that they too can break free.