Compulsive Tayler Kim A4
Dear reader My project is about my childhood affliction. Originally I wanted to do a project on art, but realized that it had no substance. I decided on the project a secretly really wanted to do because it involves one of the single most terrifying and painfully conflicting times of my life. This problem still plagues me in some aspects today, though I am doing much better. My affliction was on of the mind and when I was younger I was given a name for it: OCD. And it was severe. During this project I learned a lot of new things about my past disability and in a way I feel more at ease knowing I’m understood. Doing this project I learned that my disability goes deeper then just a need to wash my hands or repeat tedious acts. There are many forms and symptoms of OCD. In this project I focus on my own in each genre.
OCD? OCD stands for Obsessive-compulsive disorder. A person with obsessive-compulsive disorder suffers from unwanted thought feeling and ideas and so one. They also experience urges to do certain things in a compulsive manner. Of course there are the commonly known symptoms of OCD such as obsessive washing of hands, and repeating acts and number codes, but people with OCD suffer from religious, control, and fear of harm problemsalso. People with OCD suffer from these things because they have heightened anxiety. Like regular people, everyone feels anxiety from things like work or school, but a person with OCD has irrational fears and thoughts that heightens stress and anxiety and they might not even know what for or why. This is commonly attributed to lack of serotonin to the front part of the brain. Around 3 million adults and 500,000 children suffer from the disease and it can only be treated by serotonin in medicine and cognitive Behavior therapy. Many people try to hide there problem because they are ashamed or don’t know that what they have is a real problem.
…And Repeat If I hold my breath for a minute I’ll have a good day. I made A deal with myself that if I can do it everything will go my way. If I beat this car coming at me, life will be easy. If I don’t do it I’ll go crazy. I’ll spin around in the elevator, and I don’t know why. If I don’t do it something tells me I would die. If I recite a sentence before crossing the street, any car that drives toward me I know I can beat. If I don’t jump out of bed, touch the door nob and all without a peep, I know that night that I won’t go to sleep. I need to walk around the living room 3 times when everyone is in bed, or by the next morning we might all be dead. I have a list in my mind that I have to repeat everyday, so that if something goes wrong the guilt goes away.
Is it your religious guilt? Is it the reason you don’t g to church? Is it the reason you cringe at the thought of your religion? Is that why you Scrupulosity? need so much reassurance? Is that why you always prey when you feel guilty, which is all the time? Is it why you make deals in your head with god? Is that why you always fear death? Is that the reason you can’t enjoy yourself? Is it why you don’t want to go your religious relatives house? Is that why you are afraid of watching movies with swears? Is it the reason for random self-sacrifice? Is it not just regular religious beliefs? Is it the reason why you don’t believe anymore?
Containment 9 at night, Sandy, Utah. Right now I’m lying on a blow up matrass because we are moving to Vancouver tomorrow. I almost daze off into sleep but as I do my hand slides off of the bed and on to the floor. I immediately become completely conscious of what’s going on and jump out of bed and run too the bathroom. The floor is dirty, I think. I have to wash the germs off before they kill somebody. I run my hand under water and add soap. I’ve saved everyone in the house from killer germs. I go back to bed. This routine continues well into the night. Get up, go into the bathroom, go to bed, get up go into the bathroom, and go to bed. Water, soap, water, and soap. It seems endless. The light in the hallway seems to flicker on and off in a constant and timely fashion. Looking back I don’t understand like I used to the reasons for getting up almost every 5 minutes. Touching the floor, scratching my face. I even wash my hands because something doesn’t feel right. At some points I even go into my moms room to make sure that we are going to be ok. Past midnight I don’t remember if I was still afraid that the germs would kill me and everyone in the house or that it just felt right, like blinking. I don’t feel right unless I continue the pattern and stay clean. I’m running to the wash my hand sand someone yells at me to stay in bed. I manage to do what they say but I fall asleep in a sate of panic.
Reassurance “I can’t get these thoughts out my head.” “What thoughts?” “The bad ones.” “Tell me.” “I cant.” “Why?” “Because you will hate me.” “Then I can’t help you” “But I don’t know what they mean” “Then just tell me what you feel” “Scared, guilty, sad. All the time.” “What are you scared of?” “The bad thoughts. They make me feel like I will hurt somebody.” “How?” “By accident, like Ill leave the stove and forget, or ill drop something and someone will slip on it.” “So you do know what they mean?” “I just know that they make upset. Can you help?” “I can only help you as much as you will let me” But I can’t tell you anything else or you will hate me.” “I might not be able to reassure you.” “But I need you to tell I’m ok” “But you’re not ok.” They never said that but I knew it.
In Public I remember I was in the school office when I when the problem really came out into the open. that day I dint need to go to school but I though I would be disappointing if I didn't. During the day I ran to the bathroom to wash my hands, had panic attacks and become completely controlled by anxiety. After it became too much and my teacher stop letting me leave class I asked to go to the office. I was able to leave the room before breaking out crying. The panic made everything seem bigger and more threatening. Everything had a way of setting me off. Everything could scare me and make me go into a state of uncontrollable crying. This was happening in the office. Though the aids tried to cam me down they gave up after awhile. I was inconsolable gasping for breath in between cries. I waited for my mom to come get me and it felt like forever. The panic subsided ever minute but the anxiety of what was actually going on seemed to resurface. I was sick and everyone knew it now. It seems like the fact that I didn’t have these problems in public stopped me from having to admit that I had a problem because it was in safer space. But now I was’t in a safe space. I was in a office surrounded by people judging me. My mom walks into the office and I she was embarrassed and stressed to. We left the office and the ride home was full of apologies and guilt that I had harbored that short day at school. I was 7 and in 2nd grade.
Serotonin? Keeps your from constant washing your hand Makes you control your thoughts Stops repeating numbers and actions
OCD? Expository to just explain the topic briefly. …And Repeat Poem that looks at the respective OCD I suffered from. Scrupulosity?Concrete poem on a type of religious OCD that I also suffered from. Containment Personal prose story abut a point in time that a remember strongly about my containment OCD. Reassurance Dialogue between me and basically anyone I felt could reassure me of the guilt I felt. In Public Prose about a time when I had to deal with my problem in public. I chose this because It was a strong memory that I had and I also think it reflects my disorder and having to deal with it. Serotonin. Concrete poemesque about how just lacking this simple chemical structure can make life fall apart.