My Lips Are Not My Own

i thought i would write a short post on a disorder i have been suffering with for as long as i can remember, dermatillomania (i.e. compulsive skin picking). it is not a part of OCD itself, but a part of another disorder called body dysmorphic disorder, or BDD. however, it is often paired with OCD, or a comorbid condition.

for me, this condition is generally focused on my lips, though it has affected other parts of my skin. i literally pick my lips until they bleed, or scab, or even get infected. at the age of 11 i came down with a bad case of impetigo as a direct result of my lip picking. it remains vivid in my memory mainly because the scars of that illness are easily seen in my school picture that year...so lovely.

many folks ask, well have you received help for this particular condition and to them i respond NOPE. in fact, from what i know, there isn't as much knowledge as one might think concerning compulsive skin picking, so we pick on.

another question...doesn't it hurt? my answer...sometimes. most of the time there is actually a good feeling that comes from picking the skin from my lips. it is hard to describe why it feels good, but it does. other times it hurts, and can hurt quite bad. but, at those times i am still unable to stop picking. my husband tries to stop me, even my sister-in-law tries. but i get right back to it in no time. sometimes i don't even realize i'm doing it.

a final question that may be asked...why the hell do you pick your skin off? my answer...it is an unfortunate result of traumatic stress and continues to be a stress management tool my brain utilizes regardless of me liking it or not. i do not like that i pick my lips. i do not like that my lips very often look horrid, bloody, cut, scarred. i find creative ways to attempt to cover up the mess of my mouth. but it sucks. but i also know it won't stop anytime soon.

until then, i might look into getting stock in the chapstick company.

My Thought Process Lately: Sucktastic Mom...

Lately my OCD has taken a new turn in its ability to get at me. All the usual suspects remain, like harming thoughts, contamination, checking, hyperresponsibility, etc. However, the added bonus as of late is that my brain is obsessionally creating reasons for me to believe I am the world's worst mom. No matter what happens in a day, no matter what I do, I will continue, or rather my OCD brain will continue to come up with reasons that I suck at mothering.

Heck, just this morning, I was feeling good about my work as a stay-at-home mom. I had got my son through his super-poo diaper change and fed him a fairly good, balanced breakfast. We read a book, we played with puzzles, we read through my Parent's magazine together...but he is getting over a sinus infection and it was obvious he was not feeling too well. No matter what I tried, he seemed to just want to lay across the floor sucking his thumb. Or sit in my lap, resting his head on my chest. Finally, I put on his favorite TV show Spongebob. I felt awful sitting there holding him. Like I had given up as a parent. Like I was rotting my sons brain and because of me he would never learn things properly. Fearing I was doing irreparable harm via that square, yellow sponge dude. But I am not doing irreparable damage. He is fine. He is just dandy.

As well today, my son was having a very defiant day. A rough day for both of us. Maybe it was because he isn't feeling well, maybe my short patience was from arm pain, maybe we just hit a snag at the same time. But I know I snapped at him a few times and felt my blood boil a few other times. And then my old friend OCD jumped in and told me I was a horrid mother because of this. What kind of mother gets frustrated with their child if they really love them. What kind of mother would snap at her young toddler. I must be horrible, because I am not happy 100% of the time I am with my son. But I was able to brush past that eventually, as well. All the while rethinking and rethinking, as I do. And carrying out another handy compulsion of mine, confession.

Later in the evening, driving around with my hubby and son, finding a place to dine, my husband and I had discussions and even got in a small argument. At this point my brain became certain I was just the worst mother that could be because I had argued with my hubby in front of my son. I hadn't spent the entire ride smiling and talking to my son and husband, so I was awful. As we continued to drive, my mind continued its process of rethinking and rethinking every way that I have sucked as a mother in the last...well, the last whenever.

Oh my goodness, this disorder is such a tiring disaster. This little added on bonus of believing I am an awful mom does not ease the burden by any stretch of the imagination. Nope, it just exacerbates the rest of my symptoms. Today I am simply tired. That is all I am.

A Day In The Life Of My OCD

Just an FYI: I fear writing this entry, especially as I know folks who don't have OCD will read it. I fear that a lack of understanding of this disorder will lead them to false conclusions. But, even though I fear things, I feel also that I must write this entry and more like it to help spread awareness of this destructive illness. SO here goes...

I so very much want to share with you what a day in the life of OCD is like, but I am really not sure I can do it. Actually, I am quite positive I cannot properly convey what it is like. But, in this post, I will do my best to help you understand why it is so difficult to have OCD. It's not just an issue of being orderly or clean or whatever...it's an issue of life and death...at least to us who have OCD it feels that way.

When my son wakes in the morning and I hear a whimper or cry, because maybe I am not getting to him quick enough or maybe he had a bad dream, I immediately think I must have done something bad to him. You out there may think to yourself, "really Tara, how is that possible, you haven't even seen him yet"...but that never crosses my mind at that moment and I am not just wondering if I did something wrong. I almost feel certain I did. As I walk towards his room, I will rack my memory, roll through events like they are in a rolodex trying to figure out precisely what I may have done to cause him to cry at this very instant. 

I will go into the room smiling at him, talking ever so sweetly to him, and scooping him up in a good morning hug. However, in my mind I will be endlessly searching for the bad thing I must have done. As my memories that have been scanned and rescanned fade back into my brain waves, the OCD part of my brain will start to create new "memories", false memories you might call them. They are termed intrusive thoughts. Everyone has intrusive thoughts, but most might not even know they had the thought, because it will go into and out of their brain so quick. Doesn't happen that way for us folks with OCD. A thought will enter my brain of something horrid that I never, ever did, but because it entered my brain, well, goodness, it must be true...RIGHT?

After changing him and getting him dressed for the day, I will proceed to wash my hands at least two times, but sometimes 3, 4, or many more times. (And yes, my hands do get raw from washing. The skin on my hands has cracked and bled. I am certain that the skin will crack and bleed again someday.) After washing my hands in the bathroom sink, I will proceed to the kitchen, where I will wash my hands at least 2 more times, because the bathroom sink is not as clean as the kitchen sink. And, I must not spread my germs to my son. I will then prepare my son's breakfast with a particular order. Utensils must not touch certain surfaces, my hands must not touch certain things until the preparation is complete. If I have a "bad thought" while I am preparing his food, I must wash my hands. It is necessary. Once prepared, I will give my son his food and while he is eating, I will wash my hands again. This must be done because I did or might have had a bad thought as I was carrying his food to him. This is something called thought contamination. Even though they are thoughts in my head, I believe they hold weight and so, by washing my hands, I rid the thought of power and its "germs". 

After breakfast, my son and I will sometimes just play with toys in his room. Even this simple thing, such a wonderful moment each day, can be tiresome and full of anxiety. I have to place myself in certain spots in his room or touch his toys in certain ways as I grab them from the shelf to give to him. If I sit in the wrong place or touch the toy in the wrong way, then I must get up and sit down again or put the toy back and pick it up again. This, though it will likely sound strange as hell to the "normal" folk out there, is all done in an attempt to make sure my son is never hurt. As well, if I happen to get a bad thought during this time, I must get up and wash my hands at least 2 times. 

If in the morning we go to a playdate or the store or wherever, the story changes slightly. I have particular ways I must carry son and particular ways I handle items we take with us. Every time I pick my son up or carry him or hug him, I must wash my hands so as not to share my bad thoughts with him. It is essential, in my mind anyway, to not let him be affected by the bad thoughts. It's insane, yes, but its OCD. When we are out and about and I have bad thoughts, I use my handy-dandy hand sanitizer. If I am in a position to not be able to wash my hands, I will repeat phrases in my head to negate the thought. Something I might do is count "1,2,3...1,2,3...1,2,3..." or I may just repeat NO over and over again.

At midday when my son naps, this is another cleaning time. If I want to take a rest, like reading a book or watching a show, I must make sure to wash my hands at least 2 times before I sit down to do so. As well, I must sit properly on the couch. This is hard to explain. It is a feel right thing. I just must sit in a way that "feels right". If I don't, I must stand and sit again. I can stand and sit many times in a row. At this time in my day, I actually like to stay busy, because down time usually means more thoughts.

Ways I stay busy are usually doing laundry, or cleaning, or organizing, or checking things on my email or Facebook accounts. When I am cleaning, organizing, or doing laundry, everything has rules that must be followed, so germs aren't spread and no one gets hurt. This is extremely time consuming. I hate it, but I do it, because otherwise I am hysterically anxious. For instance, when I wash clothes, I have a rule of not combining our stuff with my son's stuff. As well, I will not wash certain clothes with other clothes. Lately, these rules have not been followed due to my broken arm and difficulty of doing laundry. And lately, I have been feeling overwhelmed by the stress from it. As well, certain things can not be on kitchen counters and certain things can not touch each other. Its exhausting keeping up with the rules, and my mind made them up. But, my mind is certain that if I don't follow the rules, something awful will happen...No, not just awful, but horrendous, life-shattering, epic disaster. The anxiety in these moments is awful. Its almost fatal. In fact, having OCD can be fatal for some folks. Sad, but true.

When my son wakes, the regular routine continues. Loads of hand washing and loads of phrases repeated in my head. As well, each time I wash my hands, I must make sure the faucet is turned off...and that isn't as simple as just turning the faucet off. I must stare at the faucet and repeat "1,2,3" over and over in my head, to assure my brain that the faucet is indeed turned off. 

After we put our son to bed for the night, I rush through a list in my head of things to be done and quickly start at that. But, remember, the rules must be followed. So something that takes you only 10 minutes to do, will usually take me twice as long. I will prepare for my shower. My clothes are dirty, so they can not touch anything clean. As well, once I have removed my clothes and put them in the hamper, I can not touch anything else until I have washed my hands at least 2 times. (I am not sure why 2, because most everything else I do is done in 3s.) I will then shower, but there are even rules to be followed in showering. Because of this, I am sometimes exhausted from just the thought of getting in the shower. Ugh! After showering, I will dry off and get dressed in a particular way and then I am ready to relax for the evening...or at least my version of relaxation. The "feels right" sitting will occur on the couch or in the chair again. If I have bad thoughts, as always I will be washing my hands. 

As I prepare for bed, I will start checking things. Taking my medications, I will stare at them counting to 3 over and over. Brushing my teeth, I will count in my head in 3s. I will check things, always counting in 3s. Then I will get into bed...oh, and it must feel right when I get into bed, or I have to get out and get into bed again. Of course, that can be repeated over and over again, too. Finally, I will sleep. Unfortunately, it is not easy for me to sleep...so I will usually stay up quite a while on the laptop or watching a show or rescanning memories in my head for anything I might have done wrong or bad that day. When I finally pass out, that is a good thing...Unfortunately, though, OCD can attack you in your dreams...Damnit!!!

So this is just a little taste of a day in my OCD life. I haven't included all my compulsions and everything I do. It is a generalized view. But hopefully it will help you understand this condition better. The horror that occurs in our minds is way, WAY more than I could ever convey here. Without any joke at all, we truly live in a hell inside our minds that we can only escape sometimes. OCD is something you learn to live with, though. I have learned.