OCD brought me to my knees in the sort of way that was crippling yet holy. Aside from OCD, I’m not sure I would have ever plunged completely into the world of vulnerability, denying perfection and letting the world (especially my Christian circle) know that everything isn’t always okay in my life. I am thankful for a thorn in the side that finds a daily miracle in a white pill I swallow each morning, wrecking an even bigger dose of pride inside my soul. Unfortunately, there is no cure for OCD, but for that, I'm grateful. I swallowed my pride and went to therapy, where I was given the skills (and pills) needed to work through the diagnosis. I lived with undiagnosed OCD for twenty years it first reared its ugly head when I was about four, but once adulthood hit and reality was much less kind, OCD discovered a newfound vengeance, a way to remain unhidden. It quite literally cripples your ability to function, let alone enjoy life. Thus, I obsess over all sorts of thoughts and compulsively do things to counteract them or prove them wrong.Ībout five years ago, the World Health Organization placed OCD in the top 10 most debilitating disorders-it’s ranked among Diabetes and pulmonary diseases. This is how it tries to keep us safe.īut I am safe… the serotonin just can’t get through my body to let me know. After all, if we believe we are in a place of irrational danger and rational thoughts don't calm us down, our adrenal glands tell our bodies to panic. Because I don’t have the serotonin to rationalize and process everyday circumstances, my brain is a slave to living in fight-or-flight mode. However, most of my neurotransmitters are blocked, which keeps a healthy amount of serotonin from being distributed throughout my body.Īs a result, I easily obsess over what-if scenarios. The neurotransmitters in my brain are supposed to send serotonin throughout my body, allowing me to more easily rationalize circumstances and experience joy. The three terrible things I’m most thankful for begin with: 1. However, walk with me as I delve into my journey of thanksgiving amid seasons of bleak, brutal pain (and discover God in it all). Ugh, not the answer you wanted to hear I know. I don’t have all of the answers, but I can let you in on what I’ve learned to do: thank God for the terrible things.
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