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I hate it.

November 29, 2009

Right now I kind of want to scream at myself. Scream at OCD. I just fucking hate OCD, I hate spinning, I hate it hate it hate it hate it hate all of it. I hate intrusive thoughts, I hate images, I hate fears, I hate spins, I hate worries, I hate this whole damn thing. And somehow, I don’t know how, that ends up translating into therefore I should hate myself for dealing with it. Logical, no, but that happens I guess, sometimes. But it’s like when the compassionate part of me just disappears and instead of feeling compassionate, and all I can feel is anger, hatred. Hate myself for not being able to handle OCD, hate myself for spinning, hate myself for getting stuck, hate myself for not being stronger, hate myself for being too needy, hate myself for bothering everyone, hate myself for it all.

But. I also know that I’m exhausted, that the past 24 hours or so have been incredibly emotional, that I have been crying a lot, and that contributing factors can make OCD worse. And I also know that if I think this could be OCD, it probably is: this hatred is probably based in OCD and not in reality. And so I am hearing a soothing voice in my head, and also remembering to picture a little girl instead of myself. And to try, desperately, to listen to my core. And I can’t quite believe it at the moment, but it would say something like “This is not your fault. You get to not hate yourself. OCD is not your fault. You’re not an awful person. You’re not weak, in fact, you’re very strong. You are doing the best you can. It’s okay to have harder moments. You get to take care of yourself and feel compassion instead of hate.”

So even though I can’t fully believe that right now, if it’s what my core is saying, it’s got to be the inner truth, right? So I’ll run with it. I’m going to put all of this in my little OCD box and know that thinking about everything more tonight is not going to do anything except cause more anxiety and frustration. And I get to go to bed, and not think about this all night, and not dwell, and reevaluate tomorrow morning. And maybe I’m not an awful person. Right? Maybe?

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