I wrote earlier about my day being “eh”. But starting at dinner I was feeling a little twitchy. I thought it was because my daughter kept rubbing up against my arm and it was my “don’t touch me without permission OCD”. However, after I posted my blog I went upstairs and was folding the 5 baskets of laundry that had built up, it had to be done.
While I was I was folding the laundry my skin was crawling. I felt like the outside was all over me. It’s hard to explain what that means. What I did outside today was hang out 2 loads of laundry on my clothes line, and I spent about an hour to an hour and a half sitting outside on our front porch in the new patio chairs I got for Mother’s Day. I thought I was doing the right thing, I was “getting some outside time”, and getting some “sun”. But the longer I folded laundry the more creepy crawly I felt. I felt like there was bugs on me, I felt like I was covered with dust and dirt. I don’t know where this OCD came from, I don’t know why all of a sudden this new rule was made. I know I feel crazy.
So as soon as the laundry was done, I figured I would help hubby out and empty all the trash cans, and clean the 2 catboxes because I would have to shower anyway. There was no way I would ever have made it through the night without a shower, I just was feeling worse and worse about the “outside” being on me. I started sweating, I was literally sopping wet, my face got all red, my heart was racing, and I was shaking like crazy. I literally having a panic attack.
Unfortunately, hubby didn’t understand this as much as he has the depression and anxiety. He doesn’t understand that I can’t possibly control this, that I don’t even know why, how or where it came from. I wish I did. I wish it were as easy as saying this is crazy, stop, and it be all over. But it can’t.
I really and truly hope I am not the only one with this OCD and not the only one who makes up new rules for no apparent reason.
On top of it all I was trying to move around in our already crowded bedroom with all the laundry having the panic attack and I knocked my husbands pill container off the dresser and all his pills got messed up. He wasn’t happy with me, there are a lot of supplements and medication in there and it wasn’t easy for him rearrange it all because it seemed to have jumped from days to another day. I just suck. I can’t do anything right. This one of the many reasons I hate myself.