Walking in the Shoes of OCD

She will nourish them, but do not nourish her. The trend of invalidation engulfs the masses. It's a blowout sale and all emotions must go. So she became an alchemist, Cultivating empathy to heal the epidemic. Offering sips of silence to honour experiences. Leaving problems unsolved. Letting feelings simmer. For them. Not when she needs a sip. Not when empathy's a blowout sale. Not when everything must go. The deal of the day is time limited support, Running low on validation, Albeit an inventory of good intentions. So she will nourish them, but do not nourish her.

Almost a year ago, when I texted my mom that my husband and I chose Mexico as our second Caribbean destination, she replied: where in Mexico? Me: Mayan Riviera. No response. I waited. And waited. I wasn't even dot watching. Then in came her reply: you're 1200 miles away from the drug lords. Wait. Was 1200 miles an acceptable barrier when it came to drug lords? I checked the Canadian Travel Advisory website which greeted me with a "high degree of caution" warning for the overall country. Our destination was less bold as it had not been "significantly affected by violence or insecurity." So, moderately affected? And then there was El Chapo. But he wasn't spring break bound. Or was he? Regardless, I was willing to take the risk. I wasn't travelling to the Middle East. Sure, Mexico might have felt scarier than our first love, Saint Lucia, but, unless the advisory changed to "avoid all non-essential travel," I was going. My yo...

My husband and I created a little something in honour of OCD awareness and inspired from the Christmas season for Dr. Baer's website. Check it out  here

Below is the response I posted on a local radio's Facebook page regarding the Target sweater controversy. I have OCD.   I wholeheartedly embrace humour. Heck, I make jokes about my OCD. I make jokes to bring some lightness to a disease that can be so debilitating. People often say "I'm soooo OCD" because they enjoy a clean house or they enjoy having things in order. OCD is not about enjoying having things in order. If there's enjoyment involved, it's not OCD. OCD involves intense emotions like fear, guilt, regret and anxiety. People do compulsions in attempt to find relief from the torment they are experiencing. In reference to the Target sweater, I've noticed a lot of people saying things like "get over it," or " i t's the Internet. Everyone is going to be offended by something." To me it's not about being offended. It's about feeling passionately about raising awareness regarding a mental illness that has many stereo...

It was a typical morning, feeding the cats and eating my oatmeal.  Typical, until I read a text from a friend reporting on her journey. I've witnessed the overwhelming doubt that has thrown her off balance. I've witnessed her adjust to situations, adapt to the cruel yoga poses assigned by OCD. Her text that morning was an example of her maneuvering into a new pose, a pose that worked for her.  So I grabbed a pen and notepad and scribbled this out:  Doubt was known to topple her, the unsteady territory of courage revealing cracks in her armor.  She feared the Richter Scale as fragments of hope shattered around her.  With the dulled glimmer that remained, she mapped out blueprints to board up her soul.  But she never let it become an earthquake.  Beside the dictatorship of doubt lay a fighter. She didn't need the armor.  She was the armor.  I later realized I also wrote it for me . How is ...

Having OCD used to be my dirty little secret. No one could know. No one would understand. I wish I had known about OCD Awareness Week. The International OCD Foundation (IOCDF) got the ball rolling in 2009. We were past MySpace by then. Maybe Twitter had taken the spotlight. How long have hashtags even been a thing? Was it too early for worldwide trending topics? Jimmy Fallon and Justin Timberlake definitely hadn't done this yet. OCD Awareness Week may have began in 2009 but it took years for the power of social media to send me the memo. So let's use our imagination to re-create a new 2009. Let's pretend I was a pioneering Tweeter and hashtags were as common as periods and commas; let's pretend I saw the hashtag #OCDweek while crammed in the OCD closet; let's pretend it helped me feel less alone; let's pretend the shame dissipated earlier; let's pretend I chose to disclose earlier; let's pretend I received treatment earlier. We may have to prete...

I am lucky to have wonderful in-laws (yes, it's possible.)  They visited my husband and I this weekend. It's become their tradition-the Canadian Thanksgiving Trek (except this year they were rebellious and came a week early). The visits are always pleasant but also tough. No, not because of them. I assure you they've got the parent-in-law role down pat.  Why are they tough?  Take last year, for example:  When heading out, I'd wait for Brandon and his parents to be ready to open the front door while I did a frantic scan to make sure our cats were safe and not about to book it into outdoor turf.  Anytime they'd use the washroom, I'd try to casually saunter upstairs to make sure they closed the door afterwards so our cats wouldn't get into something and die.  Brandon's dad joked that I hid things. He'd place a half eaten chocolate bar down and I'd swoop by to store it in the cupboard to prevent feline death by chocolate.  Y...