A mildly filtered breakup letter to my obsessive-compulsive disorder.
Dear OCD,
Go eff yourself.
If I wrote a letter to my OCD, that’s how it would start... The actual letter wasn’t filtered…A writing prompt given to me by my therapist sparked what I needed to write today. This one is another raw piece to keep my momentum going. Now, back to the letter…
You are exhausting and, frankly, ridiculous. Panic attacks when I leave the house, a fear of failure I can’t escape, a shrinking comfort zone that has become more of a cage than a home? You’ve taken away all my freedoms; you’ve tried to take everything.
And you’ve almost succeeded, more times than I’d like to admit.
This time has been the worst by far, but I’ve had a support system like I’ve never had before. Between my husband and the friends I’ve collected along the way, this time the struggle wasn’t a solitary one. With proper mental health care, a team that has a desire to help me, and looks a little deeper, that feels invested… That’s been the biggest reason I haven’t ended up back in inpatient. I may be a slow learner, but I do learn… eventually.
The intrusive narrator (you) hasn’t convinced me I can’t trust my therapist yet, but oh boy has it tried. It’s hard to trust with an intrusive voice yelling inside my head. OCD, please take a chill pill; it would be much appreciated.
We argue enough in my head; I’m sorry it was no longer enough to entertain you. I’m sorry you felt so lonely that you had to make my world so small. It has got to stop.
Imagine what we could create if we worked together instead of constantly against each other. The things we could write, the (horror) worlds we could weave. But you have to let me go, OCD; you have to loosen your grip. It’s time to stop arguing and to come together.
If not. It’s time to go.
Work together or fade away. The choice is yours.
Today I’m picking bigger rooms than the cage you created for me. Until next time.
- M.
Enjoyed this? May I suggest?