I dislike it when people tell me to get over my obsessions.To tell me to stop thinking is like telling me to ignore the elephant in the room.
When I was eight years old I developed a fear of hating God. It started when I watched a scene from the film Agnes of God. In this scene, Agnes, a native Catholic nun, had blood on her hands and she screamed she hated God. After watching, my head went into a tailspin and I started having these obsessions of hating God. I thought he was going to send me to hell for thinking these thoughts. Soon, I stopped obsessing over being sent to hell, and started obsessing over other things.
In high school, I was mad that Ms. Bodybuilder received the coveted high school newspaper Editor-in-Chief position that I badly wanted. Back then I thought I had the most seniority, and deserved it. I dwelled on the loss through my junior and senior years of high school, which affected my schoolwork and my emotional well- being. Not healthy, I know. I should have focused on the positive. I was a writer for L.A. Youth Magazine, where I wrote reviews and about teen issues rather than focused on the loss. I was extremely upset that I didn’t receive it that I cried when I was out of school. My friends tried comforting me, but grew tired of my complaining.
People also told to get over my fear of farting, aka Phartophobia. It started when I farted in public at my friend’s birthday party at The Olive Garden. I couldn’t stop being anxious over when I was going to fart. It was high school and I was afraid that people were going to laugh at me. I confessed to people about my Phartophobia hoping in some way the anxiety would disappear. It temporarily went away but then people thought I was the most awkward person on the face of the planet. It wasn’t a great way to gain friends.
I spend the most time obsessing over breakups. At first I rehash the breakup with anyone I can talk to and then I gradually stop talking about it because people get tired of listening. Even though I stopped talking about it doesn’t mean my thinking has stopped. I rehash the breakup in my head, idealize their new significant other, and then berate myself for not being a better significant other. It doesn’t matter if I was dumper or the dumpee. These obsessions annoy me, friends, and people I have dated, including Mr. Squigglekins.
I know most people meant well when they told me “Just get over it” or “Stop thinking about it.” Since I have OCD, that’s a difficult thing to do. It’s like asking me to do Calculus without telling me the steps. People tell me to think of something positive, which at times helped, but at times made my obsessions worse because rather than co-existing with it I just stuffed it down and the thought came back with full vengeance. The best thing that has helped me is let the thought run through its cycle rather than setting over it.