To Be or Not to Be

I have a lot of trouble making decisions.

Like a lot of people with OCD, the decision making process can be an agonizing one. There are always so many factors to weigh, so many positive and negatives to sort through. For someone who already has trouble knowing when to worry and when not to, even the simplest of decisions can become a morass of self doubt and/or poor judgment.

Most of the conflict comes back to the standard "to be or not to be" tug that plagued Hamlet. Is it truly better to suffer the "slings and arrows" of life, i.e. be passive and try to adapt to circumstances, or should one "take up arms" against your enemies, i.e. be proactive and throw caution to the wind? Everyone, everywhere, struggles with this conflict every day I would imagine, but for the OCD sufferer, the final decision gets put off by "overthinking" and truthfully, an inability to be confident with that decision.

It's tempting to counsel such a person to just "go for it" and stop worrying so much. After all, to most people, the OCD sufferer would seem to be too hesitant to take action and should be encouraged to stop fingernail biting and do something. "You should just ask that girl out, what's the worst that can happen?"...."Take a chance, that job might be just what you need..." The problem with that approach is, sometimes you shouldn't "go for it", and people with OCD often have a hard time understanding and negotiating that difference. Just as it's bad to always be passive and shrink from decisions (and probably let opportunities pass), it's just as bad (if not worse) to make bad decisions and assert yourself into situations that are harmful or ill-advised. You shouldn't, for example, be so paralyzed with fear that you never ask a girl out, but that doesn't mean you should marry the first girl you kiss either. It's all a matter of balance, and OCD sufferers have a hard time with balance. We like things black or white, and unfortunately, the world is very seldom a "black and white" place.

Most actions require at least some risk, some acknowledgement of the unknown. The vast majority of people can factor in that risk factor with little difficulty. OCD sufferers cannot. It's as if their (our) brains simply don't know when to "greenlight" a decision, preferring or at least opting, to dwell in the "testing" mode, endlessly reviewing possible scenarios and means of dealing with potential problems.

I'm luckier than some, I suppose. I've read stories of people who waste hours of every day in meaningless ritual, all intended to make the person feel "safe" about the world. I waste time, too, but I mostly internalize my obsessions, I don't act them out. For instance, while some people wash their hands dozens of times a day, or drive around the block for hours to be sure they haven't hit someone, I just worry about potential harm coming to someone, silently, privately. To the outside world it seems as if I'm fine; there are no telltale signs of the inner agony I'm experiencing.

But ultimately, time wasted is time wasted, whether in deed or thought. No, maybe I was never late for dinner driving around the block endlessly, but all the hundreds or thousands of hours I've spent worrying and mulling over some meaningless conversation with a friend or some equally unimportant mistake at work could have been spent jotting down ideas for a novel, or painting the porch, or socializing or even sleeping soundly. I shudder to think where I would be if I didn't have OCD, about what type of person I'd be.

And yet, here's the ironic thing about that. I am who I am partly because of my OCD, and that's not all bad. Yes, it's a terrible thing to have to endure and fight every day, but it's been instructive as well. It's taught me a person's psychology can really affect their mood and outlook, and made me judge them less harshly. It made me appreciate and understand other's mental ailments as well, like my mother's agoraphobia, my brother's alcoholism, and my father's hypertension. It's given me a unique perspective on so many things; I'm certainly more introspective than most people and perhaps being so has helped my writing.

I no longer think of terms of "beating" my OCD, just in terms of living with it and being aware of it so that it no longer stops me from doing things I really want to do. I'm not always successful, of course, and there are times I just want to scream and rage about how unfair it is that I have it. But like the blind man who's sense of hearing is heightened by his loss of sight, I have gained a certain amount of insight that I don't think I would have if I didn't have OCD. A man with a permanently damaged leg doesn't cut it off; he just learns to live with it and realizes it's a part of him. Maybe, for instance, I'm able to write about OCD hopefully, help others, precisely BECAUSE I have OCD. That's an interesting paradox, if nothing else.

I'll probably never be able to make decisions as easily as most people. I still fear new situations and tend to overthink and dwell on possible negative outcomes more than is healthy. But I'm learning to live with the unknown; it's as much a fact of life as the air we breathe.

And we all know how clean THAT is, right?

RIGHT????

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