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Old November 5th, 2008, 02:51 PM   #1
supernaut
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Join Date: November 5, 2008
Location: I wish I could say that it is somewhere other than Florida
Gender: Female
Default I'm on the verge, literally

I really don't need a professional to tell me that I am suffering from OCD: it's become one of those things that completely rules my life; and I'd be blind to think that what I suffer through each day is by any means normal. Nobody else knows: I don't have the courage to tell them.
And I'm not sure that I ever will.
Ironically, I'm already seeing a cognitive behavioral therapist every other week to deal with possible depression caused by another disease. Weird, huh? Well, the catch is that I've been trying to convince the medical doctors that this other disease has nothing to do with my psychological health, but rather physiological (I've already been down that road, and the symptoms are completely irrelevant to OCD). Knowing first hand how retarded doctors can be, they could possibly twist that information and misdiagnose me with something else; thus leaving me suffering from a psychological and a physiological disease. Yeah, it's really, really weird and kinda complicated...
But anyway, I'm worried about telling my psychologist about my symptoms as well. Oh, man. My original "plan" was to wait until I completely recovered from this other disease and then tell everyone about my OCD. (shit, I sound like I'm coming out of the closet or something)
However, now I'm not so sure how long I can wade this out without going to extremes. I've already attempted suicide on numerous occasions: not at all because I want to die, but because I NEED A BREAK from myself. I can't stand this any longer. Why can't my brain just SHUT THE HELL UP?
I have even overdosed on pain killers just to have that release. It's like I'm trapped within the demands and obsessions of my own brain.
It's pathetic.
No, it's beyond pathetic.
It's psycho.
If I was physically capable of attending high school (loaded with future drug lords), those painkillers probably would have turned out to be heroin instead. This is a nightmare.
Everything I do revolves around some obsessive fear of mine; and I almost "have" to relieve it with some completely psychotic compulsion. It could be anything. I could relieve it by touching something, moving something around, perfecting it's symmetry. ANYTHING. My brain seems to have me convinced that if I don't preform some ridiculous task that something bad will happen e.g. my family dies, I turn into a homo, someone I love kicks the bucket.
I also tend to compulsively add numbers, thinking that maybe they'd have some sort of strange meaning. I'm obsessed with numbers whose digits add up to "7" and "3". EVERYTHING that has to do with numbers MUST have some relation to "7" and "3". I will literally skip to those pages on a computer document or in a book.
Oh my God.
Superstitions now rule my life. Nothing is ever a coincidence anymore: it's a "sign." I hate it. I hate my brain. I over-analyze everything. Oh, and let's not forget about my obsessive thoughts. For real, if I think about something bad that might happen, my brain seems to think that simply because I thought about it, it could happen. Then, of course, I'll spend the next few minutes discrediting myself and reminding myself that this is completely mental. "No Samantha, of course that's not going to happen."
The least little thing that I do is timed (by me!)...and to win each little "test" (used to relieve the compulsions), I have to follow rules..and if I don't preform the compulsion correctly, I "lose".......wow, being honest has never sounded so creepy. This has been the most honest I've been to anyone.

It's getting worse. Everyday I watch myself fall deeper and deeper into the clutches of my own possessed mind: how long will it be before my "compulsions" drive me to do something terrible? How long will it be before this "OCD" drives me into a mental institute? (if I'm not already qualified)
This is affecting my everyday life: I can hardly concentrate on anything, I'm easily distracted, I have no social life. This is truly a debilitating disorder.
I joined this group in hopes of helping others and finding help in return; but I think that it's apparent that I couldn't possibly be of any help to anyone. I'm too far down the hole myself.
I'm alone, depressed, and confused; and I should probably be institutionalized.
Nobody needs to reply.
This is just such a relief to get this off my chest: just to open a thread and whine and complain.
(ohhh man, reading through this makes me realize that I'm more of a freak than I have ever given myself credit for)

Last edited by supernaut; November 5th, 2008 at 03:34 PM.
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