I’ve always had my share of quirky habits that have stirred up anxiety throughout my life. As a child, I felt the need to rewrite assignments until my penmanship was flawless. I would dwell on trivial matters for far too long, and mealtime was a challenge, with everyday sounds grating on my nerves. At 19, I learned that my experiences had a name: obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD).
Since my diagnosis, I’ve explored various therapies with mixed outcomes. A consistent regimen of anti-anxiety medication has helped, and after three decades, I’ve become more attuned to my triggers.
One of the frustrating aspects of OCD is the misconceptions people hold about it. Many of us have casually said, “I’m so OCD,” when we mean we’re just particular about something. But that’s not what OCD truly is. It’s not just about being neat or organized. The disorder manifests as intense anxiety over issues that most people would brush off, often leading to significant distress.
Having children shifted my experience with OCD. As my little ones grew, I found myself fixating on typical childhood behaviors: messy hair in the morning, eating with their mouths full, and disorganized school papers. I often remind myself that my anxieties shouldn’t spill over into their lives, yet I find it incredibly hard to let go. I catch myself repeating, “Chew with your mouth closed,” at the dinner table, and while I know I’m being overly critical, it feels like I’m on autopilot. My only focus is to make the “thing” stop.
When we visited a theme park last fall, I faced a myriad of potential triggers: crowds, tight schedules, and imagined dangers. Despite my efforts to manage my anxiety, I ended up skipping a carousel ride with my kids because the thought of it overwhelmed me. It was disheartening to miss out, but I found myself spiraling into thoughts of danger that felt all too real.
Children inherently create messes and situations that can provoke anxiety, and I strive to be the “easygoing mom.” This is no small feat, and I often find myself falling short. Friends who don’t understand may tell me to “just relax,” as if it’s a simple fix. Relaxing while watching my kids enjoy popsicles or ride the carousel feels like an insurmountable challenge. I know it sounds irrational, and the more I try to explain, the more I feel like I’m not making sense.
My hope is that my children will see that I love them unconditionally, despite my quirks. I want them to understand that my moments of anxiety stem from my own issues, not theirs. Each day, I strive to manage my OCD so it doesn’t negatively impact their joyful childhood experiences. I hope they’ll remember me as a loving, if somewhat anxious, mom who allowed them to explore and get messy.
At the end of the day, OCD doesn’t define my role as a mother, and that’s what matters most.
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Summary:
This article discusses the challenges of parenting with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), emphasizing the struggle to manage anxiety while raising children. It highlights the misconceptions about OCD and the author’s personal journey of learning to cope with triggers, especially in family settings. The hope is to give children a loving and supportive environment despite the complexities of the disorder.
