I'm Over It: Thoughts from an Obsessive Compulsive
For a long time, I thought that I was crazy. Although an unsubstantiated diagnosis, my emotions seemed volatile so at the very least, this made me the craziest of the sane. I tried everything to turn the crazy off, but nothing seemed to help: medications (prescription and herbal), self-help books, tapes and etc. You name it, I tried it.
(Dedicated to all those who have ever been diagnosed with a mental disorder)
One question that I’m often asked is when did I first realize that I had OCD? Interestingly, from an early age, I had been achingly aware that I handled my fears differently from my peers. Unknowingly, I had been working on components of my anxiety disorder ever since then- awareness grows as a person grows. Understanding the depth and complexities took over a decade but it was in college that I was professionally diagnosed.
We all have those moments, where we’re stretched thin for time and patience. I remember one particular night, I took the wrong off ramp and it turned into the biggest fiasco to get back onto the highway. Frustration, on top of traffic, I was wound tight. I wish that I could say, I laughed it off, but no; it was more of a masochistic tirade, “How could you be so stupid, idiot, absurd, moron.” One self-deprecating word after another, the litany was relentless.
I wish that I was one of those people who matures and grows, emotionally and spiritually, during the good times in my life, but I’m not. For whatever reason, when happy, I often run stagnant. Instead, it is the tragedy within my life that motivates me to my greater good. I’m not speaking of enduring because even a drug addict is enduring, just in the most dysfunctional way possible. What I’m speaking of is the overcoming of hardships that all of us face at one time or another. Those difficult times that appear insurmountable on the front end, and on the back end, you wonder how you wer
It all began on a ridiculously average day in the middle of summer. It was both, hot and dry, two words you can count on in California’s capital. I was driving in the fast lane as I liken myself to Speed Racer and everyone else as mere impediments especially in 5 o’clock rush hour traffic. Shaking my fist at all the slow pokes, I headed into the heart of Sacramento’s infrastructure where three different highways merge and bustling downtown’s on and off ramps met. It was here that I heard a strange snap and instantly, my steadfast Subaru started to lose speed. Immediately, I knew that i
