About autisticaplanet

My photo
Welcome to a blog about an autistic adult woman in her late 30's using words and images to advocate acceptance as well as awareness of those with life-limiting sensory processing issues and resulting social and behavioral challenges. I write about inclusion ideas for those who remain in isolation due to their neuromakeup and share how my Christian faith keeps me going. Thank you for visiting.

Thursday, March 16, 2017

Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder-What it's like-for me

Photo negative of blog author lying on floor with OCD description
I write mainly about my autism on this blog. I have not got into my co-morbids much. 
When I was about five years old, I began to have unwelcome, unpremeditated thoughts. They were intrusive and did not reflect how I felt toward others.
I kept hearing a (non audible) voice like "Push your mother/father down the stairs" when I would be behind them on a staircase.
I "hear" an imaginary voice when I am reading. I don't know if others hear themselves read, but I do.
I was also blessed with loving parents. 
The thoughts I had were confusing and scary. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt or even kill my parents. 
There were other directives, such as take one way around to the back yard or bad things will happen to you (meaning me).
I thank God I didn't give into the inaudible voice, impulsion or compulsion. I could better function overall as a child.
Most of my intrusive thoughts are negative. They tell me what a bad person I am and how I should just die. They tell me how fat and ugly I am. They tell me to kill people or things-this former thought appears when I have suffered an injustice, perceived or not.
I've been in permanent therapy since I was sixteen. 
I was diagnosed with Schizoaffective disorder and put on anti-psychotic medication.
I gained weight and craved raw, uncooked meat. My face and back broke out in sores. 
During this time, I was bitten by my new pet guinea pig. I killed her. I am sad to say that it was premeditated. 
I also tried to jump out a window and end my life.
That was in 1997.
I don't want to repeat the horrors of my late teen-aged years.
Today, I know my true diagnoses. I am on medications to make living with impulse control issues, chronic high anxiety, obsessive interest, chronic migraine, depression and thyroid disorder manageable.
Manageable, for me, doesn't mean I work 40 hours a week, drive, own a home or have romantic relationships. 
Manageable, for me, means that I get to live with my sister in the suburbs, go out in nature or for a short shopping trip (assisted). I get to make my stretch bracelets and blog on my own computer, in my own bedroom.
Had I not had a loving mother with strong instincts back in 1997 (it was just her and me living together back then), I probably would have wound up dead or in jail.
My mom should have had so much more in the way of peer and medical support being a widow with an (undiagnosed) autistic teenager. There was no Facebook or physical places for parents to meet. 
We did go to an autism support group in 2007, but I was gossiped about and shown the e-mails by a group member, because I had an opinion that differed from the rest of the herd.
I was cyber bullied by parents of autistic kids that ran a meeting once a month for autistic adults-I was one of two.
I still struggle with impulsive behavior that can turn compulsory-especially when wronged or I become impassioned with someone/something.
I called the support group and left a filthy message on their answering machine. I hit a man at a bookstore when he yelled at me back in 1998. The startle and injustice yielded an unpremeditated hit to the head with a canvas I had brought as a prop for a poetry meeting I was told twice was on for the evening.
I was upset about the cancellation and wanted further information. I didn't wind up throwing my canvas at him because I didn't get what I wanted. It was him yelling, startling me.
When he called 911, I ran out into the running car and told my mom to drive.
I couldn't let go of my anger of that man. I saw every bully who had ever hit or had threatened me. I made the biggest mistake of my life and mailed a death threat to the bookstore.
By God's grace, I didn't go to jail. What I did do is get myself an adult criminal record. I got time spent in a psychiatric facility. I got banned from the store for 2 years (I never went back). I got a terrified mother. I cost my family legal fees.
I have strong passions to this day. When I am wronged, when I am in love, when I am interested in anything, I invest much emotion and time.
The difference now is that I am 37 and medicated. I know not to threaten people. I know not to profess my undying love for a certain celebrity on his Twitter feed. I know also to beg God for help in prayer.
I hope and pray He will always make sure I have supportive, non-judgmental people in my life to keep both me and others safe.
I know I will need psychiatric and medication monitoring for the rest of my life. I am fine with that and hope I will always have that help available.
The worst thing my mom could have done was to have done nothing at all. Don't ignore a person who you think may be depressed, angry, suicidal, etc. Better to ask and risk offending the person. If they are like me, they will secretly be glad inside that someone cares enough to help.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255
NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) Hotline-1-800-950-NAMI 
You can also text NAMI during an emergency: Text NAMI to 741741
e-mail: info@nami.org