“They’re a bit OCD”

Those were the words I heard from a characters mouth on Channel 4’s Hollyoaks, about an hour ago. Don’t worry, I don’t actually watch the programme. My step-mum and brother were watching it at the time.

As someone who has suffered greatly with OCD, I certainly do not appreciate my disorder being used as a description word. OCD is an illness that has completely changed my life. It has ruined opportunities for me. I’m not the only one; OCD transforms and potentially ruins many lives around the world.

For those of you who don’t understand what Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is, I shall tell you. OCD is a mental disorder that causes the sufferer to have obsessive thoughts about unpleasant or unwanted things, which can lead to compulsive behaviours to decrease the negative emotions such as anxiety that are caused by these. These obsessions are not nice, and can turn into extremely time-consuming behaviours that can lead someone to not being able to leave the house without doing them. OCD is an anxiety disorder. It is not a description. ¬†For those of you that feel that my description didn’t clarify the disorder well enough for you, here’s a link to the NHS page that describes OCD in a bit more detail:

http://www.nhs.uk/conditions/obsessive-compulsive-disorder/Pages/Introduction.aspx

So why am I angry that a TV programme used a mental disorder as a description? First of all, it’s very frustrating to those who suffer with OCD, as the programme maintains the ongoing stereotype around OCD that claims that people “are OCD” if they like to have their things in a certain order or like to be neat. I can promise you, that is not what OCD is all about. I can guarantee that fairly soon I shall hear an individual near me use OCD as a description word. I hear it all the time, and it is so frustrating to hear someone relate someone’s little quirk to the disorder that I suffer with. The little quirk of there’s does not mean that they would willingly rather die than not carry it out. Their little quirk does not cause them to almost take on a completely different personality as a result. It is shocking that a well known channel such as Channel 4 would even think that it is okay to use a disorder as a description word.

It’s also another stab at the ongoing stigma surrounding mental illnesses. If this programme decided to describe someone as “a bit cancer”, or “a bit arthritis” , there would be an uproar of people disgusted at the fact that a physical illness¬†had been used as a describing word. So why should the description of a mental disability be any different? The only difference between a mental disability and a physical disability is that you cannot see the mental disability. But, that doesn’t mean that it’s not there, and it certainly doesn’t mean that it doesn’t cause offence or upset when someone uses it as a description.

I have made a complaint to Channel 4 about this, and I do hope that others have too. I am hopeful for a response to my complaint, as I, alike many, are wishing for a day when mental illnesses are finally taken seriously.

I’m scared of the future

The future really scares me. It always has, right from when I was very little. I used to cry myself to sleep at six years old worrying about getting old, about not being as capable as I was before. It’s kind of funny, and kind of worrying, that at six years old, I was worrying about such things.

But my fears seem to stem from when I was younger and continue. I was waiting for my bus a few days ago and I started panicking at the fact that I’m soon going to be leaving secondary school, that soon I’ll have to be more independent and pay bills and live on my own and do grown up stuff

Sometimes people try to comfort me by saying “one day, you’ll get married and have children”. That comment can really scare me. Me, children? I used to always want children, but that responsibility, that life in your hands, is a pretty scary thing that no one really appreciates fully. That little person could become even more messed up than me, thanks to me.

My Dad has always said “the moment I can’t take myself to the toilet. I’m putting a bullet straight through my head”. When I was younger, that thought used to be terribly upsetting. Now, I seem to be holding the same opinion.

I think I’m scared of life as a whole. I guess some people just aren’t cut out for life.

Again, apologies, this is a really weird post.

I’m not happy

I think its really sad that I think these words (or something along the lines of it) at least 1000 times a day. No exaggeration. Me; a 15 year old girl who is supposed to have a whole world of opportunities ahead of her, feeling so depressed and anxious every day of my life for as long as I can remember.

I can remember starting to feel all these negative emotions from about six years old. In my opinion, there’s something very wrong with that. Six year olds should not be feeling that life is pointless and that they are worthless, whilst feeling all of these irrational body issues.

One of the saddest things about this is that I know that it’s not normal to feel like this, and yet I keep at it. I’m going around in a constant cycle. I will wake up one morning and feel great. Wait an hour, and I’ll be praying that a car shall lose control and hit me. It’s not normal, and yet I see no way to stop it.

I see so many posts with the words “you are in control of your happiness”. I would love to be in control of my happiness. But at 15 years old, there isn’t too much that I can do. The only way that I shall gain happiness is with a fresh start. My own place, away from any ongoing family issues that shall plague me until I get out on my own. My own independence.

The thing is, I actually want to do something about this negativity, sometimes. But how? What can I do to stop this cycle?

There isn’t really a point to this post, but I kind of felt like I needed to get this off of my chest, or at least hope that this shall reach out to someone else who perhaps feels, or has felt the same way.

A walking contradiction begins?

I can’t wait to be on my own, you know? To be able to do what I want. To be able to eat what I want. To be able to sleep when I want. To be able to lay there all day if I want to. To be able to do pilates all day if I want to. To watch every episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians if I want to. To have a shower ten times in a day. You get the point; to be me.
I find comfort in solitude. Yeah, sometimes I still get a bit scared when a neighbour stomps up their stairs late at night, but I’m never going to get over that; I’m a highly anxious and paranoid person. I want to have my own house. I want to have my own space. I want to have my own success. I want to have my own house.
And yet at the same time I don’t want to live. I’m scared of life. I’m scared of the future. I’m scared of failure. I’m scared of being alone. I’m scared of humans and I’m ashamed to be one. I’m so unmotivated and sick of being me with all my disorders that make my life so difficult. I mean I can’t even function without doing the smallest of things and yet I think I could possibly have a future? I didn’t even expect to get to this age. Even my mother didn’t expect me to get to this age. And that hurts. It hurts that I’m not the only one who thinks that I’m not going to last much longer. And at the same time, I’m glad that that’s not another thing that adds to my totally insane and irrational thoughts.
I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m blabbing and contradicting myself here. I just feel that I need to get the thoughts out of my head and onto somewhere to make me feel better,even if I don’t deserve it. And maybe, just maybe I’ll find someone that actually feels the same as me, because apparently I’m not alone, and I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or not.