But words get in the way…

by Hazel Pino

There’s someone here upgrading our internet and I’m in the other room to prevent myself from freaking out.

in 2004 I started having weird thoughts and I started feeling like I had to do certain things. Like, shower every night but only right before bed. Or vacuum my room. And I had to do it in that order; vacuum room, shower. I’d have the urge to wash my hands after coming home or after touching certain things. Like the wall. Fast forward to 2006, it got worse. Almost everything would cause an anxiety attack. At that point I was sure something was wrong with me and I was sure it was OCD.

I’m sure tons of people have the same idea, OCD is some mental thing that has to do with doing drugs too much or has to do with people who are crazy. My mom use to tell me when I was younger (I had depression when I was younger) that they would send me to the mental house so I never got help for anything that was wrong with me. When my OCD started to completely consume my life in ’06 I knew had to get help, I couldn’t do this alone anymore. I had to talk myself into looking into therapy for a week to convince myself that they couldn’t send me to the mental house over OCD.

And so, I got help. I found the perfect therapist and I got better.

But now, 7 years later, it’s not completely gone but it’s gotten better. With every new life experience, it dies down just a little bit more and even though it’s not completely gone, I can be thankful that it slowly dies down. It’s a slow process, but at least it’s a process. It gets the worse when I’m scared or when I’m stressed out. So at least I know my triggers.

I brought this up with two of my cast-mates at Disney World; one was curious and the other would push me. And as much as I *heart* P, the things he did to test me made me wonder how I didn’t just flip the fuck out on him sometimes. But I try very hard to keep my anxiety in check when I’m in public or around other people. And trust me, it’s a very very exhausting thing to do sometimes. But it’s amazing that OCD is still such a taboo subject. But at the same time, there’s isn’t much known about it either.

So I’m sitting here, trying to figure out if I should clean the room completely when the internet guy is gone but my husband, who’s in the other room with him, is saying that’s being really nice about this whole OCD thing. He covered his feet and he put all his stuff on the floor and didn’t touch anything. It’s always nice to know when someone’s courteous and nice about things like this. Makes me think there’s at least some good in the world…

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