Venum

In 2006 I was diagnosed with OCD brought on by PTSD...which was brought on my a violent childhood. 

OCD or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is a common phrase in our time, and people actually make jokes about it and say how proud they are of their OCD because it makes them organized or efficient and means no stones are left unturned.  I have done this myself when confronted with a crisis and need to open that valve and relief the pressure with humor, but it seldom if at all works. 

I live an existence much like a soldier in a war zone...no sleep, no relaxation, not a single moment of having a single muscle resting. My mind never stops adjusting the many lists I keep in my phone and in my mind and by the time I have lived my first two hours in a day I have already lived every moment and every activity and every step in my mind over and over again for the entire 24 hours that haven't even begun. 

My behaviors are repeated door locking, turning off and on the coffee pot, I constantly check my faucets for dripping and my lights left on. I see myself in any mirror as a ghoulish, hideous, obese thing with a twisted spine. I dispute everything both in my mind and in my life. I harbor unreasonable and imagined resentment and feel that there is always one person wherever I am that hates me. 

I change my clothes at least twice (on a good day) before I can leave my house. I'm afraid to eat and yet can't wait to eat. I apply lip balm constantly only to immediately blot it off and apply again. 

My lists can go on and on. My Mom and one of my sisters also had PTSD and OCD. My sisters compulsions were so extreme that she never really fit into the world and eventually became a shut in and passed away at home in bed at the age of 57. My mom struggled with life and she too never worked enough to earn social security and also passed at home in 2007. 

We all ended up this way from living in the same house and same environment. 

I have been working no less than one full time job since I was 13, I have survived the implosion of four marriages and now I am a homeowner and hold a respectable position with the state I live in. My bills are paid in full and on time or early and my credit is the best ever.  I am in love with and enjoying a beautiful and full relationship with my soulmate and love of my life, my nephew lives with me happily, I have a little dog and a modest social life. All of which I owe to and blame on OCD. If it wasn't for my disorder I would not enjoy the high level of organization that keeps me punctual and ever ahead of the game and being ten steps ahead of my boyfriend means he never has to concern himself with remembering anything. I am a slave to those I love. Always the thinker, the planner, the worker bee, I feel accomplished and proud and frustrated and scared and paranoid and exhausted and deflated. 

I have irrational fears as well and the most prominent is this ridiculous notion that there are snakes slithering around me everywhere I am. I have only actually seen one snake outdoors in 12 years, but I just know they are everywhere. 

OCD is like a snake, its a snake that lives in your purse and under your covers, it glides through my home and my car and my office just waiting to strike, just waiting to poison me with its venum and make me feel dizzy, nauseated, hard to breathe, hard to see, my head pounding with no relief.

The bite wound lingers in my soul and my memories, throbbing ever reminding me of the past that made me. 

 The wounds scar over and fade away but the venum that is violence will always course through my veins and I will continue to make lists, to check doors and coffee makers, to perservere and to look under my sheets and behind my doors for a lurking serpent that does't exist even though I know it really does.