Halloween memories

   I hope all of you in Sandy’s path are safe and weathered the storm well. My thoughts and prayers are with those who were injured and killed in the storm and with those suffering from the aftereffects of the storm.

  We got through the wind just fine. It wasn't very bad, and we're very grateful that we didn't even lose power.

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Since Halloween is today, I thought I’d write a bit about some of my Halloween memories.

When I was a child, I was afraid to say “Trick or Treat.”

I would either let my brother or friends I was with say it, or I would mumble it myself.

I was very shy and timid, and it took all my courage to even walk up to the door and hold out my bag for the candy. To speak out loud? Well, that was too much usually.

I wasn’t afraid of the spooks that might be out and about on Halloween—I was afraid of the people handing out the candy, even though they were people in my community.

But I still enjoyed Halloween—getting dressed up and, the best part, getting candy, which I loved.

We lived out in the country, so we had to load up in the car and drive from house to house to trick or treat.

I remember the year I had a store-bought costume of a princess. It had a blue dress and a mask of a golden haired girl with a crown.

Not many people saw my costume because that year, I wouldn’t even get out of the car. My brother had to go by himself to the doors of the homes we visited. Some of the people put in extra candy for me when they found out I was in the car.

One year, my brother was in the hospital on Halloween. I was staying with my great-aunt. Her daughter took me trick or treating with her daughter. I didn’t have a costume, so my aunt and cousin dressed me in odds and ends to make me look like a man.

Another year I wore an old purple dress that was my mother’s and dressed up with lots of jewelry and make-up and went with some friends of mine.

They knew people I didn’t know, so that year I went to more houses than I ever remember going to. I ended up with a bountiful supply of candy.

I’m sorry to say that I still love candy, too much, and eat too much, especially when it’s around the house and the office like it is now, in preparation for trick-or-treaters.

  What is a Halloween memory that is special to you?

Preparation

May God bless all those who have already been in Hurricane Sandy’s path and those still in its path.

In our area of Virginia, we’re being told that wind will be the big concern, with some rain mixing in. Heavy winds can cause power outages, so we’re being told to prepare for that.

My husband and I went to the big box store today and stocked up on nonperishable food. We already had a good stockpile of batteries. When we lose power, we still have water—just not hot water—but we still stocked up on bottled water in case there’s a problem with that.

I’ve even written out the number of the electric power company to make it easier to find to report a power outage if it happens.

Larry is planning on doing some errands tomorrow to get them out of the way ahead of the biggest effects of the storm.

So we are prepared as much as we can be.

Am I feeling anxious?

Yes.

Is it OCD anxiety?

Some.

The idea of the power going out does increase some of my contamination OCD concerns. At least we’ll have water, but I worry about the lack of hot water.

But is there anything I can do about that? No.

I can’t control the storm. I can only control how we prepare for it.

Times like this are a good lesson for me.

• I learn that anxiety can actually be a reminder to get ready for something, to prepare.
• I learn that too much news on TV can actually be counterproductive to me, as I find myself getting more nervous and experiencing an information overload.
• I learn that once I’ve prepared all I can, I might as well focus on other things.

I hope you’re safe wherever you are, dear readers.

  Do approaching storms or other natural disasters make you anxious? How do you deal with it?

Fall leaves

What is your favorite leaf color in autumn?

Why am I doing this?

One of the tasks assigned in Jonathan Grayson’s Freedom from Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder: A Personalized Recovery Program for Living with Uncertainty is to create a cost-benefit analysis of why we are choosing to go through treatment for OCD versus not going through treatment.

This exercise has been valuable for me. I have been experiencing a lot of anxiety and discomfort from just reading about what I will have to do to get better.

Plus I have had the anxiety that goes with exposing myself to some of my fears and preventing myself from ritualizing in response.

It has been helpful to me to pull out my cost-benefit analysis and remind myself why I’m doing this.

Basically the cost-benefit analysis gets you to examine the advantages and disadvantages of going through treatment and not going through treatment.

Here’s mine:

Accepting Treatment

Advantages

• I won’t have the near-constant anxiety of OCD.
• I will learn to live with uncertainty.
• I will have more time to do the things I’m meant to do, like write.
• I won’t have to spend time doing rituals.
• I’ll feel better about myself.
• I’ll be stronger emotionally.

Disadvantages

• It will take time.
• It will be difficult.
• It will make me uncomfortable.
• If I take it to formal therapy, I’ll have to continue therapy and continue that cost.
• It might not work.

Refusing Treatment

Advantages

• I won’t have to take the time to do the work.
• I won’t have to go through the difficulty of trying to change.
• I won’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work.

Disadvantages

• I’ll spend time doing the rituals.
• I’ll have less time to do the things I want and need to do.
• I’ll have the anxiety of OCD.
• I’ll struggle with living with uncertainty.

  Have you ever used the cost-benefit analysis method, or some other method, to make decisions? How does it work for you?

OCD treatment: Living with uncertainty

“Are you willing to learn to live with uncertainty?”

That is the key question OCD sufferers must answer before embarking on the program in Dr. Jonathan Grayson’s Freedom from Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder: A Personalized Recovery Program for Living with Uncertainty.

Grayson holds the premise that there is no certainty in life. Even things that we think we can be certain about, we can’t.

One example Grayson uses is the belief we have that our car is in the driveway. But unless we’re looking at it, we can’t guarantee that it’s there. It could have been stolen and no longer be in the driveway.

  In addition, unless our loved ones are right in the room with us, we can’t be sure that they are safe and unharmed.

He says, “The inability to feel or be certain is reasonable. . . . Improbable is not impossible” (p. 9).

Grayson says that those with OCD already know that uncertainty is a given in life. No matter how hard we try with some of our rituals, we can’t arrive at absolute certainty in those things.

I can relate to that. My need for certainty tends to revolve around the safety of my loved ones, and even of people I don’t know. I want assurances that they will be safe and well, and a lot of my OCD ritualizing has to do with efforts to make that happen.

But keeping others 100 percent safe and well is an impossible task for me. I cannot guarantee their safety, and all of us are going to die eventually.

Grayson says that just knowing that uncertainty exists is not enough. We have to be willing to live with uncertainty.

“It is quite likely that you agree with the premise that you can never be certain. Indeed, the persistence of your OCD symptoms and its constant attendant doubt have shown you that certainty is unattainable. Yet you persist in trying to achieve the impossible. Why? Why won’t you accept what you know?

Answering the question with a ‘yes’ means choosing acceptance of what you already know instead of denial” (p. 52).

A way that we hold on to denial is through “fantasy and wishing. In the case of death, denial is not a delusional fantasy of believing the dead are alive; it is comparing the present with how much better life would be if the deceased were still alive” (p. 52).

There is a price to pay for living in denial, according to Grayson: “However, when we compare reality with fantasy, we also destroy and demean the moment” (p. 52).

That statement hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks. I had never thought of denying uncertainty as denying reality. I had never thought of denying reality as disrespecting the very moment we’re in.

Acceptance of reality means acceptance of uncertainty. Acceptance of uncertainty, living with uncertainty, means living with the uncertainty of whether the lights in the office are off, whether or not my hands are contaminated, whether or not the stove is off, and so many other uncertainties in life, including the big ones, like whether or not my loved ones are safe and well.

My answer to the question? Yes.

  How important do you think it is to accept uncertainty?

Fighting OCD: Making a commitment

I have decided to make a bigger commitment to fighting my OCD.

I am going to use Freedom from Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder: A Personalized Recovery Program for Living with Uncertainty, by Jonathan Grayson Ph.D., as my chief guide.

I am going to follow the program as closely as I can.

This decision has been a while in the making. I started cognitive behavioral therapy for my OCD earlier this year, but my therapist and I decided to concentrate instead on my chronic depression.

We’re still working on that. But I want to work on my OCD, too.

Here are my reasons:

1. I’m tired of feeling the constant anxiety related to OCD.
2. My scattered approach to fighting the disorder has not been effective.
3. I’ve read about and heard about people who have had success with an intensive program of therapy, specifically exposure and response therapy.
4. I want to be free of the control of OCD.

Though it’s usually best to work with a therapist on this program, the book does provide guidance for those wishing to work on their OCD on their own.

I’ve been working hard—and I don’t say that lightly—in preparation for beginning. I have completed an extensive assessment checklist for both my obsessions and my compulsions, so I can group together those that cause the most anxiety.

I’ve been thinking about and noting my daily routines, so I can be sure I include as many of the OCD symptoms as I can in my work.

And I’ve been working on my fear hierarchies, which will provide me with the basis for the exposure and response therapy.

I’ll be writing scripts to help me get through the exposures and to help me avoid doing rituals.

And I’m making a commitment to live with uncertainty.

I was taking a shower this morning and became aware of how much tension and anxiety my body was holding because of the rituals that I go through during my routine.

I knew then that I had made the right decision in committing to focus on my OCD with Grayson’s book, and other sources, helping me.

Here’s my first script, one where I talk to OCD:

   OCD, I am going to win this. You’ve influenced me for most of my life—for over 40 years. I know you’ll still influence me. But you’re going to have a very small influence. You are not going to win. I don’t want to think of myself as at war with you. But we’re going to make peace, and it’s going to be on my terms. I am going to stop giving you my time, my effort, my tears, my feelings, my life. I will give you nothing. I will not feed you with rituals. I am going to have time on my hands, and I’m going to fill it up with helping others, with doing things I want to do, and with the life God made for me. OCD, I am going to win this.

This is a sentence from Grayson’s book that gives me hope and something to look forward to as I fight my OCD: “Your ultimate goal is to be less conscious of your environment so you can be free to enjoy the flow of life, to take all your creative and imaginative energy and have your thoughts dominated by things that you actually want to think about” (p. 125).

   When you have made a change in your life, what helped you to stay committed? Any tips to share?

Contamination OCD: What is that in my kitchen sink?

I saw Larry bringing a bicycle tire tube into the house. He walked in right beside where I was sitting at my computer. But I didn’t say anything.

I really didn’t think anything, either.

I knew he was looking for a possible hole in my bike tire, so I guess I just figured, vaguely, that it had something to do with that.

I was focusing on what I was doing, so I didn’t say a word.

Then I heard the water running in the kitchen.

I got up and walked to the kitchen door.

There my husband stood, tire tube in the sink. He was turning it round and round, looking for a hole.

In the kitchen sink.

I don’t even remember for sure what I said. Something like, “Oh, no, tell me you’re not doing that.”

I heard him call out, “What did you say?”

I was already on the way back to my computer.

I decided that I just didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to stand and stare at something that would only upset me.

He would have to take care of any cleaning up, I decided.

He soon brought the tire tube to me, showing me the hole and asking me to mark it with a yellow highlighter, since I didn’t have any chalk.

I still didn’t say anything about the sink.

Let him handle it, I told myself.

Later, when he came back into the house from his shop, I did ask him about it.

“You’re going to wash out the sink, aren’t you?”

“Why would I need to do that?” he asked.

I knew that he was teasing me and that he would be washing the sink.

I just didn’t want to watch.

  Have you ever just let go like this, when you knew trying to control the situation would only upset you?