I’m Just a Girl from Edgeley

I live in Edgeley. For those people who know Edgeley well, I can see the tracksuit and gold hooped earring image running through the cloudy yet somewhat accurate image you may have. To throw the fact I have a mental illness into the mix might just set your creative imagination on fire. However, contrary to that image, I don’t wear my pajamas to Morrisons and I don’t drink White Lightning on a park bench. However, I do believe that good and bad experiences leave their story strongly engraved in the vessels of our soul.

I’m not a psychologist, nor do I possess the answers to everything. I’m what I like to call a physiological traveler. My mind doesn’t let me stay in one place, or have one set definition of a condition. It’s like a school hamper your nana won at Christmas with all the things you never wanted, like spam and something else just as random, like a spanner. All these different items make up the complete hamper of my mind. However, just to make life interesting, bad decisions, life and genetics have meant that some of the horrendous food combinations in nana’s school hamper got damaged, twisted and even turned into something else completely.

I’ve always been “a little worrier”, so my mum used to say. Only recently have I discovered one of the main contributing factors to this with my CBT therapist. It stems from incidents as a child where I would particularly worry about things like exams or arguments with friends etc. It seems from an early age I have convinced myself that if I worry hard enough the actual event that I was worried about won’t happen. I’ve taken that concept into adulthood and hop, skipped and full on belly dived into believing and embracing my inner child mentality. For example, I hate flying, I don’t like that the seats are small, I always get a Debbie who loves a long chat and impromptu elbow to the chest when getting her food tray down, and the worse, worse, horrendous worse thing ever is that I cant get off if I want to. I’ve held in a wee on a 7 hour flight before now because no way on God’s green grass of home am I walking on air. However, I am extremely mindful not to pass my fears and anxieties on to my children, plus I always think I want to die with great memories and to see the world so deal with it. My way of ensuring the plane won’t crash and me not to be eaten alive by Jaws through a window on the sunken titanic is to non-stop worry about it for at least 4 days before. Crazy, right?

Apparently I possess elements of OCD, which came as a massive shock as I always associated OCD with tidiness. When I lived with my parents they described my carpet as a ‘floordrobe’, so the whole OCD label made me feel proud that my mum and dad finally got that tidy child they used to throw pennies in a wishing well for. Obviously the glass was half empty on that particular concept as OCD can relate to so much more that just cleaning and tidying.

OCD has two main elements which include obsessions and compulsions. My obsession comes in different waves and forms. It creates extreme anxiety and leaves me feeling vulnerable and not in control. For example, I can have intrusive thoughts, ones that I can usually bat away. These thoughts can range from ridiculous to borderline scary. I always have the urge to object at weddings and have unwelcome thoughts like “What would happen if I threw my dog over the fence” or “I could just crash my car into that motorway bridge”. At this stage of the blog, you will either relate or think I’m bat shit crazy. The latter sort of thoughts create panic attacks; I don’t want to end my life, I want to live a life with my children and they deserve a mum. I can also confirm that I have not and would never throw my dogs, Phyllis and Frank, over a fence. I then feel guilty for having such thoughts. I’m like a walking piece of sticky back plastic but instead of fluff, half a rizla and button stuck to me, I have thoughts that I never thought I would have any association with. Having thoughts such as “I would be better off dead.” What? Why? I don’t even think that, so why are these random bits of information causing such a problem?

This leads to the compulsion element. My plane pre-worry is a sign of the compulsion. I have a plan b for absolutely everything. What would I do if there was a bomb at the Trafford Centre, what is the escape route should there be a fire in the house – the list goes on. I worry that hard about all these things in order for it not to happen. I check that my children (all three including my 19 year old) are breathing whilst they are asleep. I stand there like a wide-eyed meerkat on steds watching their chest rise and fall. God help them if they ever wake up mid respiratory check the poor things would be scarred for life. Probably writing future blogs “why was my mum a wide-eyed meerkat warrior” In my own quirky but compulsive way I’m trying to protect them. If I check on them enough they will be ok.

In no way am I making a mockery of this disorder because I am aware that some individuals have OCD that is absolutely debilitating to their activities of daily living. I can only offer my experiences of my own mental health and my angle is to show my conditions with analogies that make sense to me. These can be simplistic, childlike even, but that’s how my mind works and I won’t apologise for that. I really hope this is helpful and relative for some people. Peace n Love Peeps x x x x