Living In The Gift

Sometimes everything seems hard. I was at an Al Anon meeting today where some people were sharing about feeling awkward, ungrounded and out of sorts. I've learned that in my life of recovery, the hard times are when growth and change have their opportunity. If I allow myself to stay with the discomfort I will learn something. This is true for staying with the pain of not doing a ritual, as well as not masking or numbing out through distraction, food, alcohol, etc. What I've found these past 5 - 8 years in recovery (for alcohol and OCD, respectively) is that I inevitably emerge on the other side of the distress. Something shifts. There is a resettling and then relief and respite. That is the gift. Today I am living in the gift.

Medication Change

Sixteen days ago I decided to try to wean down my citalopram (Celexa). At one time I took as much as 60 mgs, synergized with clomipramine (Anafranil). For about 2 years I've taken 30 mgs, which is a pill and a half. Twice in the past, I had tried to wean down to 20 mgs. But, I would start having powerful and disturbing obsessions. I didn't want to tolerate them, so I went back up to 30 mgs, and they went away. Yesterday, was day #1 of symptom "pop thru". I've been worried about accidentally contaminating my food. I have felt "not clean enough" after washing. Last night I felt bloated and my mind brought me to ovarian cancer, stage IV, of course. I was already planning my goodbyes.

Here's the gift, the fruits of doggedly trudging my cobblestoned paths of recovery. I told myself

1. It is probably your OCD and not cancer. 2. There are many reasons to be bloated, and all are more likely than ovarian cancer. 2. I am late with my gyn annual exam and mammogram, and cholesterol screening. Perhaps it is me telling myself to get on the ball with that and stop procrastinating. 3 - and here's the real change in me, the spiritual recovery - Even if I do have ovarian cancer, i will make the most of it. If this is the place my higher power has put me, then it where the gifts are for me. I will suck the marrow out of whatever life I have been given.

With my head on my pillow and my arms wrapped around my sleeping beloved, I felt at peace, despite my concern. I know I am loved by my partner, my parents, my children, and the Great Spirit. I know that everyday people face, accept, and shine under conditions of great duress. Somehow, somewhere, deep within me is a peaceful core. Last night I tapped into it and drifted off to sleep.

This morning I know in a "non-OCD way" that I need to make those appointments to take care of my health. I know that I probably don't have ovarian cancer. I also know that one day I will face a health crisis, I will face my mortality, and I will pass on, leaving loved ones behind me. It is not something I need to ward off with rituals. It is a reality I can accept and live with.

For someone like me, with a history of years of ferocious hypochondriasis and an intense fear of death, it shocks me that this is my reaction. I think I may make it through this med change.

Making Peace With Water Fountains

Does anyone with contamination obsessions use water fountains? Do you let your children? The pediatric infectious disease specialist at the hospital where I trained dropped this seed in the fertile soil of my OCD brain. Ever since she talked about how germy they are, I've avoided them and wanted my children to avoid them also.

As a mom with a lot of OCD recovery, I try hard to make peace with some of my obsessions so that I don't pass on this kind of neurosis to my children. I figure they are already genetically primed, let's not make it more likely. I realized however, that every time my daughter went to drink from a water fountain, I cautioned her against it. She didn't like that, and would sneak away to drink, despite how I felt. I don't want to argue with my kids about things like this.

When we were flying home from our recent trip she snuck off to a water fountain right after I told her not to. I was through. I decided to make peace with my daughter's decision to drink from them. I explained to her that I was going to let her make her own decisions about them. I explained why I don't like them, but that I was backing off. If she wants to drink from them, it is up to her (she is eight years old).

I decided to use my AA training of "not running the show"and take a spiritual approach to "Let Go and Let God". My daughter has her own "Higher Power" and I am not it. These are common 12 Step approaches to accepting things we cannot control. On a cognitive level I realized that as my children get older, I need to relinquish control over their exposure to "risks" in the environment. I'd rather they get some community illnesses than grow up with a neurotic mother.