The dark moments don’t happen as often. I never know when they are coming and I usually do okay without my meds. When one hits and it is bad I feel able to cope. Not today though. Today was bad. It was a perfect storm. The family was all gone on vacation a week ago, they came home and things never stopped. I remained going 160 mph between parenting, teaching and doing my own homework. I could feel it brewing. I was communicating my worries to my guy and talking it through as best I could with anyone who would listen. Then what was chaos on the outside turned into chaos on the inside. # 2 was bullied at school and the school’s response mediocre at best. # 2 ends up puking in the morning and I have plans that I need to accomplish for the day. I am cuddling # 3 during naptime and what do I see. LICE. My world begins to spin.
The chaos takes hold. The chaos that is my OCD brain. It starts off in a mania. I rush and rush and rush. I sanitize everything and I count. 106 that magical number. Wipe the counter down 106 times. Convincing myself that I didn’t just clean said counter and wipe it down 106 more times. Get the lice shampoo, and by four different bottles. Buy new blankets and pillows for everyone. My imagination goes with crazy thoughts of having to burn my house down. You laugh. This is my reality. Turns out…# 3 is the only one with the lice. However, the cleaning went bad I couldn’t stop and got over board. Hands are bleeding, the girls recognize this for what it is. An OCD induced panic attack. I text my guy, “Be home soon, please. I need a break.”
We are almost 6 years in from my official OCD diagnosis and he knows what this means. I am desperate and in a dark place. Suicide thoughts sometimes because of the way OCD tricks my brain when it comes to my kids. I was there today. It has been a long time, but I sat on the bathroom floor and cried myself to sleep. I imagined horrible thoughts. I went dark places and I let OCD win for just an hour.
I lay there covered in my own tears and my guy sneaks his head in asking me if he can help. We have been down this road and he knows I just gotta work through it. #3 becomes worried and starts crying, “Momma. Momma.” She gets a glimpse of my messed up face and my puffy eyes and I see it across her face. The same face I have seen from my other two. A scared face. A face that carries with it a realization that Momma has something wrong. I hate that they have to feel insecure about me ever. The older two know I suffer from OCD but they each had the same look I saw from her. A little bit of their innocent world chipped away.
But it is just what I needed to snap out of it. I cleaned up my tears, blew my nose and came out and gave # a huge hug. I am not better and I won’t be tomorrow but it will get easier. It always does I am just in the midst of it.