The Closing of a Chapter

I’m still sort of reluctant to spill about my OCD, so I’ll keep this purposefully vague. Yesterday, at around 3:30 in the afternoon, I scored a major – in many ways decisive – victory over my stickiest intrusive thought. I’ve been recovered, to all intents and purposes, since late 2017, but there were still a couple hurdles left in front of me before I could more-or-less close that chapter for good.

I jumped over both of them. The other one fell at around 10:30 this morning. (Do hurdles fall? Let’s go with that.)

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The Longest Break

I quit taking antidepressants 259 days ago, which makes this the longest I’ve been medication-free since…well, from when I was born until I started on antidepressants in 2007. I remain optimistic that this is permanent.

With luck, this’ll be the last time I blog about OCD-related medication. I’ll make note of the one-year anniversary of my withdrawal on June 12, but that’s it. I’m done with them, and for the foreseeable future I’m done writing about them too.

Caribbean Lapse

I’m at the tail end of a moderate OCD lapse. Firstly, thanks. Secondly, yeah, it does suck. Thirdly, though, it is what it is: since OCD’s chronic I’m susceptible to flare-ups even when things are going great.

And things are going great! Like, “completely symptom-free” great. Things were so good I was able to listen to and enjoy a Soundgarden album (King Animal) for the first time since Chris Cornell’s death. And that’s what makes this lapse tolerable: the knowledge that I was there as recently as last week and that I’ll be there again shortly.

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Three Months

I’ve been off antidepressants exactly three months, and so far, so good. So really good, for the most part.

At the risk of belabouring this point: I am not against antidepressants. They helped me get better; I’d start taking them again tomorrow if it were necessary. For now, though, it isn’t, and I’m hopefully done with them for a good, long while.

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My Recovery

A few weeks ago I took the Yale-Brown Obsessive Compulsive Scale and scored myself as generously as my symptoms might allow. I got a 7 out of 40. A 7 is subclinical, but this wasn’t a true 7: it could’ve easily been a 2 or a 3. In other words, if I walked into a psychologist’s office tomorrow they wouldn’t be able to diagnose me with OCD. Yet I do have OCD – and, what’s more, I’ll have it forever. I’m okay with that. And with Doc Awesome ordering me to “let go right now” I figured I should explain what recovery from OCD actually means – and, more importantly, how I’m going to stay recovered despite having this chronic mental disorder.

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