The Journey of Healing from OCD

Healing, such a small word for such a huge accomplishment.

Healing starts with a moment. One moment in which you realize that you were able to focus on something other than OCD for just a second. That moment gives you a glimmer of hope. A glimmer of normalcy, a glimmer of what life can be again.

That glimmer drives you, it encourages you.

You keep going, keep fighting, keep wishing, keep searching, keep praying for relief. Full recovery seems elusive, but now it is your journey, your mission. The more you try to rush it, the further away it seems. So you keep doing everything you know to get better. Reach out to friends. Ask family for support. Take medication. Go to therapy.

You are a perfectionist following all of the rules put in place for recovery, but why is it taking so long?

Then, when you least expect it, like when you fall in love...it comes. Sweet relief begins to wash over you. The harder days are less hard. The bad days are fewer and farther between. You begin to recognize yourself, the REAL you begins to emerge again.

You slowly begin to build the trust back up with yourself, but you aren't so quick to forgive the brain that betrayed you. The "old you" begins to come back, but it has also transformed.

You are now more wise, more understanding, more aware of yourself and others. You feel deeper and love stronger. Empathy and compassion flow out of you. Every stigma you used to have toward mental illness has become something you now want to help others fight against. You don't take one laugh, one "I love you" or one smile for granted. You've discovered a new side of yourself you never knew existed, a side that might have never been without OCD.

You're different, but very much the same. Laughter comes easily. Beauty can be seen in the littlest things. The darkness that used to rule your life has subsided and you can enjoy the sunshine again. The rollercoaster you've been on for months is over. The uncertainty has disappeared, you now feel safe.

You feel safe with yourself, your children, your life. You can now with full certainty distinguish between the thoughts of OCD and the thoughts are the "true you."

At first you cling to your recovery like a life vest in the ocean. You fear letting go, getting sucked back into the obsessions, the thoughts, the fears. Your new thoughts are calculated and precise. For a while, you may worry that OCD will never truly lose its grip on you, healing takes a huge leap of faith. But I promise, freedom will come. Complete freedom and recovery IS possible.

Recovery from OCD takes time, it doesn't occur overnight. OCD is traumatizing, it takes mental and physical stamina you never knew you had. It takes your mind to agonizing lows and places fear into the most mundane circumstances.

Once you climb out, once recovery is firmly in your grip, you walk. Keep walking and for a while, don't look back. Place distance between yourself and your thoughts, your fears, your obsessions. Enjoy the peace, the love, the serenity. Allow yourself to take a break, a true break. Lay in your bed thoughtless. Play with your children carefree. Laugh so hard it hurts. Enjoy your family. Enjoy your life.

Don't allow OCD to win. Don't let yourself hold a grudge over your journey, learn from it. Learn that these thoughts affected you so much because you love so hard and care so deeply. Learn that you are highly sensitive to right and wrong, and know that it's okay. Learn that you love your children so much, you set up mental and physical barriers to protect them (even if it meant protecting them from you). You sensed danger and you sacrificed your sanity for it, but now you know that you don't have to do that anymore.

You can protect your children in different ways. You can see danger, but don't need to obsess over it. You can have a bad thought, but that doesn't define your character.

OCD wants you to believe you should be small and fear, the truth is you are great and fierce!

Keep fighting mommas, your recovery is in reach!

Chels

A Glimpse Inside My OCD Mind

Happy Thursday! So, I've been a little MIA lately because...parenting is hard! I wasn't depressed or having anxiety/OCD, I was more run down and exhausted. I felt like my kids were being extra naughty and extra ungrateful  and it was soooo tiring. My husband has been home about 1 day a week for 2 months now and it's starting to show. My husband traveling is our family's bread and butter and he's been doing it for 6 years now, but every year there are a couple of difficult months (and this is my first year with all 3 kiddos.) Anyways! I'm feeling much more perky lately which makes it easier for me to write (I don't like writing when I'm not "feeling it" because it doesn't feel genuine to me).

I did do something out of character about a week ago, I watched a seminar about growing my blog through Pinterest! This is exciting for me, but will take some work I haven't found time for yet (I literally don't know how "big time" mommy bloggers do it).

What makes me know I need to keep going is my readers. I've had many people contact me in just the past couple of weeks looking for encouragement through OCD. That is why I'm here. I want people to know they aren't alone. I want them to understand the disease and know that their reaction to it is normal. I want them to know they are stronger than they feel and that this disease can be conquered.

One thing I strive to do is explain OCD to those who may not understand it as well as share personal aspects of my struggle so that people going through it realize they aren't alone. I'm pretty sure our OCD minds all work in pretty much the same way. We all experience a lot of the same thoughts, fears, and thought patterns. Today I'm going to share HOW my mind was working during my OCD.

• I was always thinking "if we can just make it to ____ we'll be okay." If we could just make it 10 more minutes until my husband got home, I would have proven to myself I wasn't dangerous and we would be okay. If we could just make it to next weekend, I would let the thoughts go and we would be okay. If we made it to next month, everything would be okay. I kept setting dates and once the time would come, I'd set a new date because I couldn't stop thinking. I couldn't stop obsessing. I couldn't stop.
• I put my thoughts in a hierarchy. I was constantly asking my husband, therapists, friends "is this the WORST thought I've had?" OR "Is this the WORST thought anyone has ever had?" I was always convinced mine was the worst. My mind came up with the scariest things. I was broken, I was awful.
• My obsessions would rotate. One week thoughts of physically hurting my children would torment me, but the sexual ones wouldn't. The next week it would flip. The sexual ones would bother me and the hurting thoughts wouldn't. This went back and forth countless times for months.
• I thought that if I kept thinking about harming my kids it meant somehow that I was planning it. Like, "What if I hurt them tonight before my husband gets home.", "Oh my gosh! I set a time, that means I'm PLANNING something!", "I can't stop thinking about it now, does this mean I'm going to do it?" Cue excessive crying and hyperventilating.
• I thought that if I did or looked at my children a certain way then it meant I wanted to act on my thoughts. If I wiped them one more time while changing their diaper than ended up being necessary, I was being creepy. If I wanted them to sleep in my bed, I was being creepy. If I touched their neck, it meant I wanted to strangle them. If I looked at them while holding a knife, it meant I wanted to hurt them. I read into EVERYTHING. I overanalyzed every movement, every thought, every moment.
• I checked and rechecked thoughts constantly. I didn't want to forget a thought or have a reaction to one that wasn't appropriate.
• I felt like I needed to disagree with every thought. This became constant as my anxiety heightened. I was constantly thinking bad things, then immediately following them with "good" thoughts or "true" thoughts. If I didn't combat the thoughts, it meant I agreed with them.
• I couldn't understand how my husband so easily complained about stuff the kids did. I would never have complained about them, I didn't deserve to.

These are some of the thought patterns I had, sometimes it's hard for me to remember everything since it's been a couple of years now, but I'm trying to remember for the sake of those suffering right now. I know right now you feel like your on a rollercoaster in your mind that you can't get off of, I just want to share my thoughts and my struggles so you don't feel alone. I also want to reiterate this, I'm not like this anymore. I've come completely full circle. I still remember that time, but the obsessiveness and anxiety surrounding it is gone. You can get well! You WILL get well, just reach out for help!

Thanks for reading!

Chels

I'm A Great Mom, A Stranger at Target Told Me So

I took my 3 amazing children to Target the other night. It was almost bedtime, but we needed diapers and formula so it was a trip that had to happen. If you are under the impression that people were stopping me in my tracks to compliment my put-together, well-behaved children, you will be sorely disappointed. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't even put this trip into our top 5 worst-ever, but that doesn't mean it was pretty.

My 6 year old is an ASKER, he asks for everything. Things he wants. Things he needs. Things that he doesn't know the name of. Presents he wants to buy for random classmates. Clothes that are too small. Things we already own. Anything that's a cool shape or color. Anything. Once he stops crying about my refusal to buy one thing, we've walked far enough for him to want something else.

My 2 year old is a completely different story. He's an OPENER. The opener is dangerous because they open things before you even realize they're no longer strapped into the cart. I buy more opened/partially eaten food items than sealed ones. I used to get anxiety over the amount of "trash" I needed to pay for at the beginning of each check-out session, but now I have bigger things to worry about, like if Easton has escaped to the parking lot while I was blinking.

Have you forgotten Ella (6 mos) was on this trip? Yes, me too. She's literally the one with the most needs and she stayed completely silent throughout all of the chaos. She also does an amazing job of holding all of the crap that doesn't fit anywhere else in the cart.

So we're at Target checking out and I'm feeling optimistic, but as soon as I start piling wrappers on the conveyer belt to buy, Easton starts trying to open all of the candy next to the register. "Stop it!" I hiss with a smile on my face. He laughs and starts running, weaving in and out of aisles. Meanwhile, I'm trying to get the heck out of Dodge, so I send Brayden off to round up Easton. Big mistake. Now he's being chased while running into strangers and opening food I don't want to pay for. This has become a game. An awesome, annoying game.

(I would like to take this opportunity to propose a petition. My petition is to get Target to start playing background music in their stores. I've been personally been dealing with child meltdowns for over 6 years now and just sometimes I wish their shrieks would be slightly muffled by some random elevator music.)

Anyways, here we are. My children are chasing each other while stealing and I'm sweating because I can't find my credit card, because I stuck it somewhere special that I "wouldn't forget it" and then couldn't find it (it was in my pocket). I finished my purchase and put the children back in the giant cart they always make me push (with the 2 extra seats, but no extra space for purchases). I'm on my hundredth "you aren't going to get your Lunchable!" when the lady behind me (who had been quietly laughing to herself the whole time) speaks up, "you're a great mom" she tells me. She has 3 kids at home and understands the struggle. The struggle is REAL.

There are only 3 reasons that parents would say parenting isn't "that" hard:
1. They're lying.
2. They have a child who is 1 day old.
3. They have a multitude of nannies.

Parenting is hard, I don't care who you are. That lady probably wasn't super impressed with me or my kids that night, but she understood it. She understood the importance of lifting others up when they are struggling. She saw through the exhaustion and frustration and wildness. She understood us. I wake up every day and put everything I have into parenting. I push through until the kids go to bed, then I sit on the couch too exhausted to change the channel away from cartoons. We are parents, we are all part of a club that is equally fulfilling and draining. Sometimes it's nice to hear a stranger laugh at your kids while they're being naughty, then tell you you're awesome because they "get it."

I lose my temper. I cry. I feel weak. I disappoint myself. Despite all of those shortcomings, my kids love me. They tell me I'm the most amazing mommy. They cuddle and hug me even if I snapped at them. They forgive me of my mistakes. So here we are, it's another day and I'm sure my kids will spill about 20 gallons of water on my new laminate floor and I'll raise my voice just a little while telling them  for the 100th time to get dressed, but at the end of the day everything will be okay because we are a family and always will be.

What I Wish Others Knew About Postpatum Mental Illness

It can be so easy to gloss over the terms of mental illness without understanding the deeper feelings behind them. You can hear someone say "my anxiety is through the roof" or "this OCD is exhausting" or "I wish I wasn't so depressed" without truly grasping how all-consuming these illnesses are. Without personal experience, I can honestly say I would never have understood the gravity of these terms or the life-changing effect they have on people.

For me, anxiety meant:
Losing the ability to eat, my tense stomach wouldn't allow it.
Having a permanent "weight" on my chest.
Being unable to sleep, my anxious mind was always at work.
Always being in "crisis" mode.
Worrying constantly, this world is such a dangerous place.
Panic about the possibility of panicking.
Actually panicking.
Each minute feeling like an eternity.
Parenting seeming impossible.
Relief was unattainable.

For me, OCD meant:
Constant horrifying thoughts.
The inability to distinguish which thoughts were caused by me and which came from anxiety.
All-consuming fear.
Mental exhaustion.
Physical exhaustion.
The loss of trust...in myself.
The need to hide things I found threatening.
Analyzing all interactions with my children.
Needing constant "outside" reassurance.
Never allowing myself to become frustrated with my children.
Becoming a shell of myself.
Having zero confidence in my abilities, character, or integrity.

For me, depression meant:
Literal hopelessness.
Feeling buried in a hole, unable to climb out.
Holding feelings in until I no longer could.
Sobbing. Not crying, wailing.
Absolute numbness.
Defeat.

I had no idea what was to come, he has been amazing from day 1 though : )

One of my biggest struggles was finding the right way to express myself. Frustration turned into anger. Misunderstanding turned into resentment. Words of encouragement fell on deaf ears. The longer I struggled, the more I believed I would never heal.

Postpartum anxiety, OCD, and depression are so hard to explain and almost impossible to understand. Having your brain turn against you during what is supposed to be an amazing time in life is confusing and disappointing. Everyone experiences mental illness differently, but these are just some of the feelings I had that I didn't know how to voice until after my struggle had ended (yes, I promise it can end.)

Take care of yourselves, mamas!


Chels

A Letter to the OCD Momma

To the mom who suffers OCD in silence: I see you.
To the mom who spends all of her "me" time crying into her pillow: I get it.
To the mom whose eyes dart across the room, wondering who is worrying about her sanity: I feel your pain.
To the mom who fears holding her child: You're okay.
To the mom who fears not bonding with her child: It will come.
To the mom who's hungry, but can't eat: I've been there.
To the mom whose greatest fears are stuck on repeat in her brain: I know, it's hell.
To the mom who feels trapped in her own mind: You will escape.
To the mom who mourns her former self: You will be restored.

Right now you may feel helpless, alone, and misunderstood.

You might look in the mirror and not recognize the woman in the reflection. You've always been strong, self-sufficient, and courageous, but now you find yourself needing reassurance for every move you make. The fear is real. The emotions are real. The way out seems impossible.

You obsess over having "the thoughts."
You obsess over not having "the thoughts."
You cry when the thoughts upset you.
You cry more when they don't.
You wonder where these thoughts came from and fear what they could mean.
You long for a clear mind, something you never before considered to be a gift.

You've become robotic. You don't act how you feel, you act how you think you should. You smile is empty. Your eyes heavy. Your face is still, but your mind is racing. Your body is withering away. Your once strong spirit is begging for shelter. Shelter from the thoughts and anxiety. Shelter from the chaos. Shelter from yourself.

You're running. Endlessly running. Your mind is running. Your body is running. Staying in one place is the enemy. An empty schedule invites the thoughts. Being alone is not your "safe space". You have no sanctuary.

Why are you like this? How did you get here? What did you do wrong?

You are like this because you love hard. You got here because you are selfless and protective. You did NOTHING wrong.

From the depths of despair, there is hope. OCD feels like an Everest you were never trained to climb. You will fight this until you don't feel like you can go on and then you will fight some more. You will find inner strength you never knew you had and discover parts of yourself you didn't know existed.

OCD can feel like an identity crisis. Your mind has turned against you and you feel completely betrayed. I'm here to say: It's okay.

It's okay to cry, hard and long.
It's okay to mourn for time lost.
It's okay to feel defeated, though you swear you won't give up.
It's okay to fake being "okay" long before you feel it.
I'm here to tell you everything will be okay. Maybe not now, but eventually.

Eventually the fears will fade. The obsessions will lose their grip on you. Your mind will rest and you will relax in the serenity of silence. On the other side you will be stronger. You will be sensitive and understanding. Empathy will be your greatest strength.

On  the other side, there is joy and there is peace of mind. On the other side you will understand yourself far more than you could have ever imagined. The fear will have left you, but the lessons remain. On the other side of it:

You will know what true strength is.
You will have fought for yourself and those you love.
You will be able to enjoy your life and your family.
You will forgive yourself.
You will have overcome unimaginable obstacles.
You will be grateful for the little things.
You will enjoy simply being.
You will be able to help others through their struggle.

OCD is like the world's greatest test of character and I promise, you are acing it.

When I was finally able to enjoy my family again : )

Canvas: My Favorite Way to Decorate

Monday marks the 1 month anniversary of the blog's re-launch and I couldn't be more excited! With the help of my friend, Lauren, we've been able to reach over 10,000 views this month! Now that I've told everyone who will read my deepest and darkest secrets, I figured I would share some of my decorating style with ya'all! So, here's a little bit about my style and my taste...

I LOVE canvas pictures and artwork! It's everywhere in my home! I have a floral canvas picture in my entryway, as shown below. I love how it pulls together the side table below it. I've picked out a picture of each of our children to place in a frame. I've also put 3 flowers, 1 for each child in my painted bottle or "vase." I also included the "&" to show that they are all connected. Every time I come into my home, I'm reminded of the people who live with me that fill our house with love.

Canvas pictures of my children are hanging in my playroom, which is the room directly off of my entryway. In my playroom, I used one of my favorite methods of hanging canvas pictures, which is attaching thick twine to each canvas (either by hot glue or small tack) and hanging it off of decorative knobs. My favorite knobs are sold at Hobby Lobby, either at store or online (always buy when they're 50% off or use a 40% off coupon). I love how this room combines all of my children as well as fun colors and an "arrow" theme (I will be sharing more of this room next week).

I also have canvas pictures hanging in my living room. Above the fireplace I have a flowered  canvas painting. I love the way that the paint on the canvas has texture and depth. Next to my stairwell I have a canvas collage of my wedding pictures that my husband made. Above it I've put a beautiful ornate wooden piece. I love mixing canvas pieces with decorative accents.

There are a couple of different ways to make sure that canvas pictures stay straight. At a local craft store, it was recommended that I use Scotch rubber pads (like you use on cabinets) to keep my canvas pictures straight. I used them on some, but was not completely happy with the results (the pictures get crooked often). I would recommend using adhesive putty to keep canvas pictures straight.

I hope this gives everyone some ideas about different ways to use canvas on their walls or at least gives some insight into the personal style of the girl who you've been reading about!

Thanks for reading! "Like" and "Share"

Chels

Extreme Mommy Guilt

Mommy guilt, we ALL have it. Whether we feel bad about not breast feeding, being too distracted during play time, working too much, not reading them enough books before bed, not making heart shaped sandwiches etc, there is always something to feel bad about. Parenting is hard. Being "on-call" 24/7 is very draining. That compiled with the fact that everyone on social media constantly looks beyond happy and put together (ugh) there is always someone who appears to be doing "it" better. Now, I want you to imagine the "regular" mommy guilt combined with the "OCD/depressed/anxious" mommy guilt. One word: OVERWHELMING.

When I first developed OCD, I was very resistant to accepting the fact that these horrible thoughts were not mine, but instead anxious thoughts. Excuse me! They're in MY brain! I obviously WANT to be thinking them. False. This lesson took me a looong time to learn. Countless therapists would assure and reassure me that even though my brain was thinking horrible things, these thoughts were not the true "me." Remember this, please remember this...anxiety makes you worry and think irrationally. OCD puts those awful thoughts/fears on repeat. OCD thoughts come against your will. I could not control my mind. It never quit. It was like I was running full speed on a treadmill that I could not get off of. It was exhausting. It was all consuming. When I say it was hell, I'm not lying.

For a long time, I felt like I needed to remember each thought so that I could torture myself with guilt over it. If I was going to think horrible things, I was going to make myself pay the price for it. This was a huge mistake. During my OCD I promised myself I would never forgive myself for the horrible things I had thought. I didn't deserve forgiveness. I thought saying the phrase "those aren't my thoughts, but are anxious thoughts" seemed like a cop-out. I wasn't going to blame an illness for my thoughts, I'm an adult and I needed to take responsibility for what was going on in my mind. This, my friends, was flawed thinking.

It took me getting out of the "fog" of OCD to realize those thoughts were not mine. Once I began taking medicine and my thinking slowed down, the thoughts did too. Suddenly, I was only thinking things I WANTED to think, and surprisingly (or not surprisingly) none of those thoughts included hurting anyone. That is when I realized that I needed to forgive myself.

You see, people with OCD/anxiety are very sensitive to bad thoughts. They believe in "right" and "wrong" and when they have thoughts/obsessions that go against their beliefs, they are shaken to the core. The very fact that 1 bad thought spiraled me into the depths of despair proves that I have morals. I love hard and I take failure very personally. I was willing to risk my own mental health to protect my kids, the problem was, that wasn't necessary. I did not need to forfeit my sanity to keep my children safe. What I needed was expert care and medication to help me understand my disease and get well.

So, you may wonder, what happened to my guilt? I finally took the advice of the professionals in my life and practiced self-care. In the depths of OCD, I didn't think I deserved to care for myself because I was an awful person. I thought: why does everyone keep worrying about how much sleep I'M getting when there is an obvious crisis going on. I couldn't worry about me because I was completely invested in worrying about my kids 100% of the time. I have now realized that if I don't care for myself, I'm doing my children a huge disservice. For me, self-care meant cutting myself a break. Holding onto all of the guilt and shame over the thoughts was ruining me and ruining my relationships with my children. I would have never been able to recover if I had not decided to forgive myself and let those thoughts go. It was a process. It took time, but now I understand the disease and I know that pushing forward instead of dwelling on "bad thoughts" is something that is so important toward maintaining my mental health.

When I see how much my children love each other, I know I'm doing it right.

All moms, not just ones with OCD/anxiety/depression need to learn to cut themselves a break. We work hard. Parenting is emotionally, physically,  and financially draining. It takes everything I have every day to keep my family going and I still fall short. I still lose my temper or cut bath time short. I still skip a story or don't cuddle as long as they'd like. I'm constantly trying to juggle meeting all of my children's needs while still trying to keep myself and my husband happy. Right now my dishes are dirty and I'm pretty sure the amount of food spilled on the floor during dinner could feed a small country. I don't know the secret to good parenting. I put everything I have into these little people and still find myself constantly apologizing for things that they do. I'm not the perfect mom, but my squad knows they're beyond loved and I will put everything I have into raising these amazing children I've been given.

Love yourselves, mamas!

Ps, I got as far as making a YouTube channel with my name on it before I decided I was too tired to put on make-up and turn on my camera...there's always next week!

Chels