Black Wide Belt: Kohl's.
White Wrist Gloves: Thrifted.
Black T-Strap High Heels: Target.
White Floral Hat: Thrifted.
Hello everyone! Originally I was going to wait until I had this dress shortened to wear it, but I just couldn't wait! I'm actually not even sure I want to get it shortened now, I quite like the length. I took this pictures at my grandparent's house right after church. Their house is just perfect to take blog pictures at because it has so many new and different areas to explore.
Now, if you're not in for reading something deep and personal tonight, I suggest you stop reading right now. It's something I've been meaning to post about, but just haven't gotten around to taking the time to do so. It happened last week when I went to Cedar Point with Matt. Whew. My heart is racing just typing all of this.
If some of you don't already know, I have OCD, or obsessive compulsive disorder. OCD is not a life threatening, but a life affecting disease. When you have OCD, you obsess about something and it becomes your worst fear in the whole world. A person will do anything to have it not come true or to stop it from happening. To stop the worst fear from happening, a person with OCD will perform rituals over, and over again. Things like turning off light switches multiple times, checking things repeatedly, washing hands non stop. Often people with OCD believe also if they don't perform these rituals, bad things will happen or someone will get hurt. It's a very tiring disease: mentally and physically.
I have always had OCD but it was never very strong when I was young. My OCD sparked up when I was twelve years old when I became violently sick one night. This night was like a living hell for me. I remember every moment, every feeling that went through my body. It was then I came to obsess about throwing up. I refused to eat and function like a normal person. I washed my hands constantly and was afraid to go outside of the house. It got so bad that I needed to seek professional , but it still lives in me today. I am lucky that I am not faced with my obsession everyday, so it is not as bad for me as for some people. When I am faced with my fear though, it becomes too much.
I can not say "vomit, puke, throw up." I must say "get sick." I remember every time so clearly that anyone, including myself has gotten sick. Even from when I was just three. I have to pray every night because if I don't I'll make myself or someone in my family sick. I'm almost don't want to have children because I'm fearful I'll have morning sickness. If someone I know gets sick, I won't talk to them, see them, or touch them. I have hidden in bathrooms and cried at school because someone has gotten sick, and I refuse to leave until it is "safe." For six months I wouldn't go into the bathroom where I had gotten sick at. I won't breath around where someone has gotten ever gotten sick at, because I fear I will be contaminated. Often I get random panic attacks and think I'm going to be sick although it's all in my head, I always believe I'm sick. I sat in a bathroom and bawled my eyes out, sobbed, and prayed with all my heart that I would not get sick once. It was one of the scariest times of my life. I hate being the last one to fall asleep at night because I'm afraid I'll start to feel sick and be alone. For a long time I wouldn't eat spaghetti, because that's what I had gotten sick on. I'm constantly washing my hands and I'm always living in fear of getting sick. I must constantly ask all of those who are close to me the phrase" Will I be okay?" I ask it over, and over, and over again. Sometimesup to ten times in a row. And it sounds so awfully terrible and I'm so ashamed to say... If my own child was sick I couldn't take care of him or her because I would be too afraid. I just wouldn't. I couldn't do it.
Most of this sounds so silly and absurd to you all. Probably down right horrible and selfish. To people with OCD, it's a living nightmare we can't escape from. I haven't gotten sick since that one night, and I pray every night I won't get sick even though I know one day I will. When the day comes, I'm afraid of what will happen. I won't be able to take it.
Well, I was faced with my fear at Cedar Point the other week. Of all of the thousands of hundreds of chances for someone to get sick on a ride, it would have to be the one I was on. It was Ocean Motion, the boat that does back and forth. I was on the end side of the boat, and Matt was to my left. The ride was fun and gave me a funny feeling in my stomach. When the ride was almost over is when I saw it happen in my peripheral vison. It was a girl sitting right next to Matt. Nothing else in the world mattered for me that moment than getting out of the boat. I cried and screamed for them to let me out. When the gate released I ran, as fast as I possibly could to a corner where I collapsed into sobs. Matt came to me and just a little had gotten on his pants. I screamed at him out of total fear " just go away!" I was so afraid I didn't care who I hurt. He left me sitting there to go to the bathroom and wash his hands. I sat, crying, in a ball, so afraid, not sure what to do. He came back and I wouldn't touch him. I couldn't go near him. I couldn't look at him. I managed to get up after twenty minutes and couldn't walk on the side of Matt where the incident happened. I couldn't even go close to him. I had to go to the bathroom and cleanse myself of the dirt, filth, and contamination I felt was on me, even though none of it had actually gotten on me. I washed my hands repeatedly up to my elbows and the girl behind me look at my like I was mad. I made Matt was his hands again and clean his shorts, yet again. For the rest of the day I didn't walk on that side of Matt. I couldn't look either, I was afraid. At the end of the day when we left Cedar Point Matt's mom brought a new set of clothes for him to change into. I just couldn't even be near him when he had those clothes on. He was very hurt as I imagine I would be,too. I was treating him like he had a deadly disease! I just couldn't help it though, my fear was so strong. I didn't want to go to sleep that night for fear I would wake up sick.
I hate this disease. I hate it, hate it, hate it. It makes me miserable and it makes me live in fear. I know though I'll never rid myself of it: it will always be a part of me. People never know who has OCD. We don't look sickly or act sickly. I am perfectly healthy until my OCD takes over. I hope to look back at this post when I'm older and be better. I hope when I'm older I see how much I did suffer when I was young, but know then that my suffering is over. This post was important for me to let out my feelings and emotions so I'll always remember what I went through. Now I'll never forget.