Living fearlessly.

I want to do big things with my life. Rather....I want God to do big things with my life. I don't really know what exactly that looks like. I've been discouraged lately, feeling like I'm not doing anything of importance.....therefore, I'm not important.

It's not really about the big things, is it? It's about the small things. The small, intentional things. Sometimes it's hard being ok with the small things.

IOP is still going well. It's hard. I touched the inside door handle of a public restroom last week. I didn't think I could do it. The fear. The piercing fear. My eyes poured forth a stream of tears as I made contact with something that I believed would paralyze me. My head ached from screaming thoughts of not being able to move freely because of all the germs. My therapist talked me through movements, helping me prove to myself that germs and dirt do not paralyze me.....my fear paralyzes me.

My parents were in town visiting for the weekend, and we were talking about.....life. There are many things that I want to be doing....those "big things".....but time passes and my dreams seem to get clouded by fear....paralyzing fear. My dad said to me, "You never used to be this way. You never used to be scared of anything."

"I know, Dad....I know. That's why I'm getting help. Somehow I've become scared of everything."

It was a tender, reflective moment for me. It's true....I never used to be scared of anything. The world was my playground.

The IOP program at UCLA is so different than residential at Roger's because my day is less structured, giving me the opportunity to practice living life outside of the confines of my OCD rules. Sometimes I hate it and just want to go back to doing life the way that I used to because I hate fighting against my body. But, I keep fighting.....accepting that some days are just going to be harder than others.

.....may I fearlessly approach the small things in life, so that I can fearlessly welcome the big things.

A picture story.

My intensive out patient (iop) program is going really well.

I like my therapist.

She has an English accent.

I don't have a lot of words today. I probably touched over 60 public door handles today. Maybe that's why my brain is a little fried. I still don't like touching door handles, but I'm proud of myself. I was pretty normal today, opening doors. :) And all the while, I kept hearing Mr. BTs voice (that's my BT, Nick, from Roger's) saying over and over again....."You don't have to like it."

Monday through Friday I live with Theo and Jessie in their 400 sq ft studio apartment in Hollywood. It's cozy. :) I love them. They challenge my OCD and encourage me to keep fighting for my free spirit.

Below is a series of pictures that will tell the story of yesterday evening. One of my most spontaneous adventures in quite a while.

A.) Don't know why Jessie looks like she is throwing up on me?

B.) Silly photo shoot in the bathroom....it had a super cute little mirror-seat-cubby-thing. :)

Only in Hollywood....

Always thought it would be cool to get a nose ring....an actual ring....not a stud. Not sure now though....

Wow....my expression is scary....maybe cause this whole situation is scary.

Don't be fooled....this is just a nervous laugh.

The scary piercer man was sooo reassuring....he told me not to be nervous....my nose falling off is the worst that can happen he said with a straight face. Thanks.

Freaking out already and he's just getting ready to clean my nose. Lovely.

I'm perfectly calm. :)

I was startled when he stuck a q-tip drenched in rubbing alcohol up my nose. Hello there.

The anticipation. Mr. scary piercer man told me I had to sit on my hands. Jessie was an EXCELLENT cheerleader and documenter.

Breathe in, breathe out.....breathe in....STAB!!!

Look closely....you can see the big, long needle sticking through my nose. Awesome. I'm calm as a clam....cool as a cucumber.

Sopping up the blood. Fabulous.

A.) Love it, love it, love it.

B.) Half smile.

A.) Still being a big baby. Jessie demanded a thumbs up.

B.) Best picture ever!!

And....the best part of the evening.....while waiting to cross the street at a stop light, I managed to convince an ambulance to drive Jessie and I home (4 blocks) because we were tired of walking and it was 11:45pm. They asked if we had been out partying. Our response.....

HECK YES!!

We've been out since 7pm.

People watching was non-stop entertainment.

One drink each at a cute little pub.

I got my nose pierced.

We are crrrrrrraaaaazzzzzzyyyyyy!!!

They laughed.

Church.

Church. The very word makes me nauseous at the moment. It's the scariest and loneliest place I can think of. Interesting, since the very core of what it is supposed to be is accepting and safe.

What is the point of that stupid meet-and-greet time? Seriously. Five to seven minutes of awkwardly shaking hands and faking a "Hi, nice to meet you." BS. To be quite honest I hate shaking your clammy hand and it's really not that nice to meet you because, let's be honest, we'll never talk again because we don't really know each other and people at church don't care to meet other people.....everyone already has their little friend group.

I'm seriously considering going to an AA meeting every Sunday morning, where time is actually set aside for you to introduce yourself. "Hi, my name is Kristen, and I'm messed up." And in response, everyone welcomes me. Not only that, but people take time to drink their coffee TOGETHER and talk about REAL life $**t.

Seriously, it's no wonder that "non-church-goers" don't want to become "church-goers." Can't say that I'd recommend it. I've been going to the same church (off and on through all my moves) since Jan 2001 and haven't met a single friend there.....not ONE. Pretty awesome. But I still keep going.....because I love Jesus. I love learning about Him. I love the freedom to sing my love for Him. I love His love. I love His truth....His acceptance....His grace. And for that hour and a half, there is no where else I would rather be. I dread the end because I want to stay in that moment forever....with Him. But then "church" ends and the reality of the world....people.....life over comes me as quickly as the lights are switched on. Ugh.

It would be great to meet new friends who share my faith. Ever since graduating from a tiny, Christian college 6 years ago, I'd venture to say that I've made more friends that don't share my faith than those who do. Interesting. And I love those friends. I feel accepted. But it's hard, because my soul longs to talk about spiritual matters.....spiritual matters in the every day sense. Life is spiritual. There are a million different "religions" in this world, and don't all of them embody some sort of faith factor and spiritual dimension? I would think so. Aren't we all, in many areas of our life, drawn to certain types of people or places? Because of that, I'm drawn....or at least, desire....to also meet friends who value, challenge, and hang onto the same faith as I have chosen. And so I try. I introduce myself to people at church. Awkward. I've tried small groups. Awkward. I've gone on missions trips. Awkward. I've gone to church events. Awkward and usually miserable.

Listening to a sermon podcast and going to an AA meeting sounds like a much less awkward approach to this thing called church.

A tribute.

I can't believe it's been two weeks since I've properly blogged. I can either feel guilty and beat myself up or I can just be. I'm going to just be. So I didn't blog for two weeks....oh well. That's all I need to say about that.

I started the Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP) at UCLA medical center this week. Monday was rough....we kinda threw it out the window and officially started yesterday. Yesterday and today went really well. It's different than residential, but I'm really impressed so far.

During the week, I'm staying with Theo and Jessie since they only live 10 miles away from UCLA. A couple hours ago Theo and I were just hanging out in the apt when a rather large OCD issue came up and I was struggling. Theo began to engage me in conversation about my fear, my spinning thoughts, and my feelings and emotions. Towards the beginning of the conversation, Theo asked me to recall a specific example of an exposure I had worked through at Roger's....any example as long as I could remember it specifically. I thought of one. He then said, "Now, what did your Behavioral Therapist tell you as you faced that fear?" For about 45 minutes, Theo challenged me to use the tools I was taught while at Roger's.

I really did learn so much during my time at Roger's. It's seriously the most amazing program! It's as though my BT, on day one, held out a silver platter presenting my life....my free spirit....and said, "Here, these are for you. Over the next several months I'm going to teach you how to take these back." My BT spent countless hours helping me push through minutes and hours of what seemed like torture. Even though I yelled, cried, cussed, and argued with him, he did not give up on me and would not let me give up on me. I truly am so grateful for his dedication to helping people with anxiety disorders and am blessed to have had him on my team.

Introducing.....my Behavioral Therapist....the man who for four months told me countless times, "Don't feed the parrot on your shoulder....don't feed it!" :)

Nick Ferrell - THE BT.

I told him to do something funny. This is my BT being funny. LOL.

My two biggest cheerleaders. Heather, my social worker therapist (helped me with my emotions and feelings) and Nick, my behavioral therapist (helped me with my behaviors). You guys are the BEST!!!

Overwhelmed.

Monday morning. First week back at home. Feeling overwhelmed......

California!!

Oh CALIFORNIA....how I love thee!! I'm here....basking in the warmth!! :) Just landed a few minutes ago, all my bags made it, and I'm excitedly waiting for Theo and Jessie. :) LA traffic...there's nothing like it! And...my iPhone....I love having my iPhone again! Oh...I'm just so happy to be "home." I feel free.

Making a splash before I leave.

Holy Moly! The humor!! The irony! The insanity!

My emotions have been ALL over the place the last few days!! My anxiety has physically felt unbearable at times. The stress of change, packing, planning, expectations....had my body all tied up in knots and my mind spinning faster than a tornado.

Tonight after dinner, I grabbed my phone and headed for the restroom. Planning to read and respond to my texts while "resting"...as I often do. After laying down my toilet paper barriers on the seat (yes....I still do that) and squirming out of my jeans while reading a text, I sat down and for some reason decided I wanted to set my phone down on the toilet tank so that I could fully relax during my pee. I set it down on the extra roll of TP sitting on the toilet tank, and as I turned my torso back around, I caught a glimpse of my pink phone slipping off the TP roll and falling. What seemed like a slow motion action move, I tried to remain seated, but flung my hands behind me to grab my phone, half hoping that my booty was completely sealing the toilet seat. Um...not so much!! PLOP!!! And I'm talking the biggest plop and splash I've ever seen! The splash was as big as if I had chucked my phone as hard as possible into the toilet bowl. REALLY? SERIOUSLY?? DID MY PHONE REALLY JUST FALL INTO THE TOILET?? And was there just a tidal wave that not only showered my booty, but also drenched my back and soaked my thighs. I am not even kidding! I don't know how it is even POSSIBLE for a tiny little phone to make such a huge splash!

I had NOT peed or done anything besides just sitting prior to all this chaos!! I promise! All the toilet paper is what I used to dry myself...seriously! Look at how soaked the TP is on the seat...literally, a tidal wave! Good bye, precious pink phone. :(

Of course...I let out some sort of audible noise....I honestly can't remember if it was just a loud screech or some explicative....likely both. I JUMPED up, turned around in mid-air to land facing the toilet and staring at the bright blue glow of my phone resting at the bottom of the toilet bowl. Lovely!!! Just lovely!!! Pants still down and literally toilet water dripping ALL the way down my leg, I reached in and grabbed my phone immediately yelling and screaming who knows what. With ONE hand, I awkwardly wiped up as much toilet water from my legs and back as possible. I managed to pull my pants up, but couldn't zip up my zipper or buckle my belt. As I flew out of the restroom, I almost ran into the gathering of staff and fellow residents as I was still trying to pull my shirt down to cover all necessary areas with my one hand, while staring at my OTHER hand in disbelief. I couldn't decided whether to laugh or cry. As I spewed my thoughts of utter disgust, staff was laughing so hard and interrupted with, "Well, you wanted fireworks when you left, Kristen!" :) Um...fireworks!! ...not a tsunami!!

I did wash my hands....probably more than necessary. Later, half laughing, I offered my phone to four of my peers sitting in the living room, three of which are here because of contamination issues. Needless to say, if looks could kill, I wouldn't be writing right now. :) Wow!

A lot of emotions have transpired since the incident which I will spare for another time; however, all humor aside, this whole thing speaks volumes to how far I've come. :) On January 3rd (the day of Theo and Jessie's wedding), Karyss and I were touching up our makeup just before the ceremony when my eyelash brush fell into the toilet. I had a mini-freak out just seeing it. My mini-freak out was cranked up quite a few notches when Karyss reached right into the toilet and grabbed it out and threw it in the trash. As I jumped up and down and expressed my anxiety by squawking and carrying on, Karyss just rolled her eyes, washed her hands ONCE and carried on with her make up!!! She probably hasn't thought about that since. Less than two months later, I DID THE SAME THING....not quite as calmly and nonchalantly as she did.....but nonetheless, I put my hand in toilet water!!

There are so many more details.....thoughts.....feelings....emotions.....blah, blah, blah.....running through my head right now, but I think this story is sufficiently long enough, so I'll end it here. Call me for coffee, and I'll fill you in on all the dirty details I left out. Bada bing! Haha! :)

God really does have a sense of humor! I would have never, in all my planning, asked for what happened tonight, but in soo many ways.....it's the perfect ending, the perfect exposure, the perfect memory for my time in residential treatment. My hand STILL feels extremely dirty, but....I'll sit with it. :)

9:30AM tomorrow....I walk out the doors of Roger's Memorial Hospital in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin. My struggle with OCD is far from over, but I feel more free than I've felt in years. Thank you, Roger's, for helping me....teaching me....how to fight for my free spirit. I am forever grateful!

Reality Check.

We still don't have internet access on the resident computers, so I write on a laptop another resident has so kindly allowed me to use and just transfer my posts when I do have the opportunity to use the internet at the other treatment house. On my walk down to the other house just now.....all I could think about was how much I want to run full-speed into a wall!!! Ahhh.....this day!!!

Before posting what I had written earlier today, I decided to read some posts of other blogs I follow. The first blog I read was my dear friend, Sarah's.... www.drinkingfromthesaucer.blogspot.com And whaddaya know....her most recent post was entitled: The Gratitude Experiment. She has given up her negative attitude for Lent. :) Her post was exactly what I needed to read this evening. I have soooo much to be grateful for! Being grateful doesn't take away anyone's pain, fear or suffering, but it sure does give a better, deeper, healthier, and ultimately more satisfying perspective on life and all its curve balls.

Another dear friend of mine, Florence, left a comment on an earlier post of mine that also encouraged me tremendously. She shared with me a verse from Isaiah.

Isaiah 42:16 "I will lead blind Israel down a new path, guiding them along an unfamiliar way. I will brighten the darkness before them and smooth out the road ahead of them. Yes, I will indeed do these things; I will not forsake them."

God is so good and so completely faithful. I have experienced Him in deeper, more intimate ways than I imagined possible these last four months.

My time is up on the internet, so I have to head back up to my house now. Hopefully I won't run full speed into any walls tonight, but if I do, I pray that God, with His grace and sense of humor, at least pads it for me. :)

Training to be a Kung-Fu Master.

I’m struggling today. Just a couple hours ago I was having a panic meltdown. It felt like I was going crazy.

I’m doing better now, but my anxiety is still high. All my muscles hurt, my mind is tired.

I have been looking forward to going home for sooo long, and the excitement was electrifying when my flight was officially booked and purchased on Thursday. However, the same afternoon my flight was purchased, I began to stress out….worry….panic. I would say I’ve done pretty well fighting off all the irrational thoughts for the last few days, but when I got back from church this morning, I just didn’t have the strength to keep fighting, and I broke down.

On Friday morning, I took a 5 minute, 55 second shower, no compulsions, with a full-body recontaminate. I let out an audible, emphatic “WHAT?!” when I pulled the shower curtain back and saw the timer. It was such a disbelieving moment for me, and I didn’t want to tell anyone. I was/am still scared that I will never be able to do that again, but that it will be expected of me; therefore, by sharing my accomplishment, I am setting myself up for failure. Yesterday, my shower was 11 minutes 30 seconds, and without even realizing what I was doing, I caught myself washing my hands vigorously. I felt soooo much shame…..so much guilt. “I knew I was going to fail. How did this happen? I’ve taken several 10 minute or faster showers in a row…more importantly, I’ve been taking compulsion free showers for over a month now….how did this happen? Stupid me. I should have been more in control. I should have been paying more attention. If I wouldn’t have washed my hands, my shower probably would have only been 10 minutes. One hand wash is going to turn into two, and then three, and then four, and before I know it I’m going to be stuck in a cycle of rituals that I can’t get out of again.”

I managed to stop those thoughts for most of yesterday, but it was exhausting and frustrating. Then last night I pulled out my suitcases and began to pack, in attempts of reducing the stress of packing during the week. The obsessions flooded my mind. Out of nowhere it seemed. The obsession of opening and placing my suitcase “just right”….touching my clothes “just right”…..re-folding clothes because they weren’t perfect….the need to not only lay out my clothes for the next four days, but to hang them perfectly layered, the way that I will actually wear them….the need to know exactly which pair of underwear and socks I will be wearing on what day….organizing the remaining clothes in my drawers “just right”….standing back and studying my room repeatedly, just to barely….slightly…..readjust a random object like my laundry basket to subdue the anxiety I was feeling. After picking out what shoes I would wear over the next four days, I took all the other shoes out of my closet and lined them up just a few feet outside my closet. After placing them just so, I decided that I wanted them to be closer to my suitcases, so I moved all my shoes to the middle of the room, starting the process of lining them back up all over again. Picking out my four outfits and moving my shoes from the closet to near my suitcases in preparation of packing them took well over an hour. Close to mid-night, my anxiety was so high…..my muscles tense, my heart beating rapidly, and my body so warm that I was beginning to sweat…..that I half-ran out of my room to get a sleeping medication and just sat outside till I cooled down and I started to feel sleepy. Once back in my room, the temptation to just “fix” my shoes one last time was strong, but I crawled into bed as fast as possible and awaited sleep to rescue me.

When I walked in the door upon return from church this morning, I began to cry feeling as though the 71% of my hierarchy isn’t enough to carry me through days like yesterday and today. It’s just 71% of the 120 or so exposures on my hierarchy here….it’s not encompassing 71% of all my daily, life activities. I began to catastrophize and panic. Between the help of resident counselors (RCs) and calling my BT, I began to look at the day in more perspective, realizing that everyone has bad days, I’ll never escape the feeling of anxiety because it’s a “normal,” universal emotion, and fighting with all my might to resist compulsions to reduce my general anxiety today is just as much an accomplishment as completing multiple trials of planned exposures attacking specific areas of anxiety.

Sometimes I just don’t feel like I have enough kung-fu in me to fight all the evil villains attacking me from every direction all at once.

The treasure of words.

My mom and dad sent me a birthday card (that arrived ON my birthday…. :) yay!) that made me grasp my heart with my hand. Even though the poem on the card is written by someone else, I consider it a hidden treasure that my parents searched for and found specifically for me! :) I love it so much. They underlined the words that I have highlighted in pink below.

Thanks Mom and Dad for the treasure of the words you gifted me with on my birthday. I love you both so much!

“If”

If you can value truth above approval,
and friendship over beauty, wealth, or fame,
If you can share your gifts and talents wisely,
leaving someone better off than when you came,
If you find happiness in simple pleasures,
and see the rainbow, not the falling rain,
If you have faith to keep right on believing in miracles that no one can explain,
If you look until you see the good in others and keep your spirit honest, true, and free,
Then you’ll be, not just happy and successful, but the woman only you were meant to be.

-Emily Matthews