My struggle with OCPD

I wrote this post in May 2016, now it being almost September, almost 4 months later..I feel enough courage from the ones closest to me to share with you all-
“oh my gosh I want your life.” “I wish I was like that.” “can I be you.”… yeah these comments are quite extreme and I think they were all just polite ways of people complimenting me on where I am at in life, but I have heard them. 

Being a social worker I am one of the biggest advocates for mental health help, I mean why wouldn’t I.. that’s what I do- is help people stablize during their mental illness. But since the words “mental health” have such a stigma I never realized why there was embarassment and shame behind the words until I needed help myself. 

With all of the tradgety happening in my hometown of Grand Forks ND, I feel as though people are finally starting to realize how much of a necessity  mental health care is. It’s amazing how perfect ones life can be potrayed through social media. Facebook statuses, and filtered instagram pictures put a constant pressure on individuals to be perfect. And if they they aren’t perfect, they get shammed. In one way or another. 

I have always suffefred from anxiety. Yeah yeah, just like everyone else right? Maybe yes, but when I came to find out was that my anxiety was driven from a different source. Growing up, I was known as a “worry wart.” Constantly worried about my older sister staying out of trouble and worried about my parents staying safe. I was so scared that the individuals closest to me would be ripped away from me someday. I would stay awake at night and wait for my parents to return from their date night just to be sure that they didn’t get hit by a drunk driver on their way home. I didn’t do well on an exam.. there goes my floor he career. 

These simple worried stemed into me having extreme morals and a need to follow rules/laws and stay out of trouble. 

I had never realized how these small events in my childhood would follow me through adulthood. I became not only even more of a worry wart, but instead of small worries my brain became wired to automatically jump to the worst possible case sceaniero in every situation. “My mom’s plan hadn’t landed on time?-It must have crashed…” “I forgot a lamp on in the apartment?-it’s going to start on fire and burn down the whole building.”

Don’t even get me started on driving up to ski resorts/mountains etc.-Enjoying the view is impossible when all you can think of is driving over the edge and crashing down below.  “I forgot to lock the door?-Someone is going to break in and take everything in our house.” And of course it only got worse when I got my baby Otis.. my anxiety was driven through the roof with unrealistic worries about him being sick, sad, lonely, hurt, etc. 

Oh and saying the wrong thing to the wrong person not being able to move on from it.. Thinking anyone and everyone doesn’t like you for no reason what so ever. Dreading over, obsessing over making one small mistake..

The list never ends. And not only did I think about these thoughts, they consumed me. I obsessed over them and they took over my day.

It finally came down this last year. Dawson and I had been in Boise for almost a year now. At this point I had just overcame 4-5 life milestones in just one short year. I had graduated college, got married,  moved to Boise away from my family and friends and hometown, started and finished graduate school, got our first puppy, started my first full time job in my career, and moved into our brand new home together. Not one of these experiences had been bad, they all actually were quite amazing. But, something in me was different, even to the point of Dawson noticing. I couldn’t put a finger on what had changed or what should be done about it.

I comtemplated for about 6 months about if I should go and see someone. I preach to my clients everyday about the importance of mental health care and medciation compliance… so how could I go in and see someone? I was to the point of breaking down in tears feeling so hiprocratical about my situation.

Dawson finally gave me enough strength to make an appointment to help figure out what was going on with me. The days leading up to this appointment were the worse copule days mentally that I had experienced in a long time.. “what if they don’t beleive me” “what if they think i’m stupid” “What if i’m not severe enough to be medicated” Of course all of these thoughts were going through my head. 

Sitting in the waiting room I wanted to run.. I had a huge lump in my throat thinking about every possible case sceaniero on how this appointment could go and finally a guy walks out and called my name. Sitting in the corner office, on the 11th floor, downtown Boise with a full view of the capitol and downtown wasn’t enough to make me feel any better. Because really.. what was wrong? Really… I have no reason in life not to be happy and not feel good.. I sat there feeling stupid and hippocratical.. I’m usually sitting at the desk taking notes, not on the couch next to a box of kleenex.

I attempted to open my mouth to explain my anxiety and how I felt like a hipprocate but couldn’t even get that far without my anxierty coming through in its physical form. I tried to hold back tears and explain what was going on with me but the problem was, was that I didn’t even know..

I explained to him about my worries, thinking I had already had myself diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Which anyone in the field knows, is extremely hard to treat because the anxiety just continues to flow from one thing to another. But- leaving my first meeting with him I realized that I had a deeper issue. I didn’t suffer from generalized anxiety disorder, my anxiety was actually stemming from Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder. It may not even be enough to be a “diagnosis” but he stated that I do meet the bare minimum criteria for the disorder. My heart sank hearing these words and I immediantly felt shame and embarassed. 

No, I do not need to touch the door nob 6 times before entering a room, or have to spin around 3 times before sitting down on a couch. These traits are related to the well known Obsessive Compulsive Disorder that maybe people “claim ” they have if they are super organized and like to be neat and clean. 

My issue resolved around the need to be perfect. I always knew I was a “type A” person which caused me to be organized, punctual, work orientated, etc. Many of these traits fall under the criteria for persons with OCPD. My Dr. ensured me that OCPD is what also has caused me to be so successful in life. It is what had driven me to graduated from college in 4 years with 2 degrees and a minor, to not stop pushing to the top until I reached the position of president at Gamma Phi, what had kept my motivation strong to persure my masters degree and fight for the job that I always wanted. 

So what’s the problem? People with OCPD many times are “perfectionists” to the point that it is not allowing them to enjoy life. Being unable to control a situation causes extreme discomfort because the outcome is unknown. People with OCPD often plan out their day down the to minute feeling compelled to follow it to the T. Perfectionists deny success.. nothing is ever good enough, they are always reaching for the next big thing. This is one I do not know if I identiy with, I do feel as though I accept and feel proud of my successes. 

But what I do identiy with is how OCPD perfectionists fear failure. Failing is the worst possible outcome and it is taken personally rather than a learning opportunity. This really became apparent to me when I was in my clinical practicam for my masters program. My supervisor asked why I wasn’t more confident in myself because I was always so scared to messing up or doing something wrong. I couldn’t put a finger  on it.. why I was so scared to fail?  It came down to the worry of being embarassed, and feeling shame. Letting people down. When in reality, if I were to fail, no one would really care, they would correct me and move on with their day. This wasn’t something new to me, when I look back at life it has been with me my whole life.

I have always been so scared to fail. I have always taken constructive criticism so horribly, I have always gotten so offended and take simple things people say personally. I redirect compliments thinking there is no possible way someone could think that of me. I have never been satisfied with my body and always had crazy expectations for my further spouse. (Which obviously turned out okay:))

Week 1 with my doctor we discussed my goals and he broke down what he felt was going on with me. He gave me some books to read as homework to start thinking about my perfectionism. I started to read “the persuit of perfect” which has already started to change my brain. It talks about perfectionism vs. optimism and how being a perfectionsct can ruin your life, while being an optimist can allow you to succeed as well as except your failures. Perfectionist view life as a straight line, no bumps, hills, or bruises are allowed. There will be no mess ups because they will set them back. Optimists acknowledge that like with have ups and downs, but they learn from their downs, therefore making them a better person and helping them succeed more in the long run..

No my problem isn’t severe, and it may seem a little bit silly… which yeah maybe it is.. but I’m working to #breakthestigma

There is nothing wrong with working on yourself and bettering who you are. Do what makes you happy. 
Update today, right now: going in to get help was the best decision I have made in a long time, I have never been happier!