I've had a number of OCD situations come up that are easily mistakable for real issues.
A few months ago, I was talking to a friend about my ROCD (relationship-themed OCD). Then, I didn't know what OCD was, muchless what ROCD was. I told her I was having a lot of anxiety about my relationship. She told me that anxiety means something and that I needed to take my feelings seriously and explore them. My therapist at the time would say the same things. This only fueled my OCD issues.
A month or so later, I was talking to my mom about my fears of being a lesbian. A few days after that, I discovered what HOCD (homosexuality-themed OCD) was and then told her that I thought I had OCD. She flipped out and told me that questions of sexuality were a real issues, ones worth taking seriously. Always. Needless to say, I haven't been talking to my mom much about my issues.
Again today, I was talking with a friend about an issue I was having. She at one point said, "That's a totally reasonable thing to worry about! That's not like worrying about leaving the stove on or the door unlocked." Well, yes and no. Yes, it's a different worry. One that in some situations is reasonable to worry about it. The thing is, I wasn't really worrying, I was obsessing. Or maybe it was some combination or worrying and obsessing. Regardless, it was taking up my energy in an unproductive way and was beneficial for me to treat as an obsession. My friend just didn't get it, so I stopped talking to her about it.
I think largely because of my experiences with my new therapist I am much more confident about what is and isn't an OCD issue. At the same time, I'm feeling a bit isolated. One of my good friends is having a lot of problems and has shared the concern that she is occupying too much of my time voicing her issues. The truth is, I'd love to tell her about some of my issues, but I think she might just think I was really weird and not be helpful to me.
Maybe this is all a good thing. I think sometimes I tell people my problems as a means of reassurance seeking, which I need to stop doing. Nonetheless, there are only a few people who really know the meat of what I've been struggling with the last few months.
A few months ago, I was talking to a friend about my ROCD (relationship-themed OCD). Then, I didn't know what OCD was, muchless what ROCD was. I told her I was having a lot of anxiety about my relationship. She told me that anxiety means something and that I needed to take my feelings seriously and explore them. My therapist at the time would say the same things. This only fueled my OCD issues.
A month or so later, I was talking to my mom about my fears of being a lesbian. A few days after that, I discovered what HOCD (homosexuality-themed OCD) was and then told her that I thought I had OCD. She flipped out and told me that questions of sexuality were a real issues, ones worth taking seriously. Always. Needless to say, I haven't been talking to my mom much about my issues.
Again today, I was talking with a friend about an issue I was having. She at one point said, "That's a totally reasonable thing to worry about! That's not like worrying about leaving the stove on or the door unlocked." Well, yes and no. Yes, it's a different worry. One that in some situations is reasonable to worry about it. The thing is, I wasn't really worrying, I was obsessing. Or maybe it was some combination or worrying and obsessing. Regardless, it was taking up my energy in an unproductive way and was beneficial for me to treat as an obsession. My friend just didn't get it, so I stopped talking to her about it.
I think largely because of my experiences with my new therapist I am much more confident about what is and isn't an OCD issue. At the same time, I'm feeling a bit isolated. One of my good friends is having a lot of problems and has shared the concern that she is occupying too much of my time voicing her issues. The truth is, I'd love to tell her about some of my issues, but I think she might just think I was really weird and not be helpful to me.
Maybe this is all a good thing. I think sometimes I tell people my problems as a means of reassurance seeking, which I need to stop doing. Nonetheless, there are only a few people who really know the meat of what I've been struggling with the last few months.
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