It DOES get better, baby.

I sit here with my baby asleep watching a show about children with OCD. This brings many many thoughts to mind. First, it reminds me of my past. I was diagnosed when I was 7 years old. I vividly remember fighting with my mom in the laundry room because of my clothes. She asked why I couldn't just wear them and all I could say was "they're wrong". I didn't know why they were wrong. I didn't know if I was wrong. I just knew it didn't work. Something was wrong. I screamed, I cried, I couldn't live with it. Yes, it was just a pair of pants, but for me, it was only the beginning. It wasn't "I don't like that outfit". It wasn't just a tantrum. I could not for some reason comprehend the feeling. It was horrible. All I could focus on was everything bad. It didn't make sense. It doesn't make sense. Even looking back and feeling that feeling, I can't explain it. Honestly, the way I felt at that moment was worse than when I watched my grandmother, my rock, take her last breath. I was diagnosed after I started hoarding change. My parents were at their wits end. They had nowhere to turn and weren't sure what was going on. They didn't know something was wrong. I'm sure they just saw their child being a demon and throwing tantrums to get their way. Finally, they found my doctor. She was great. She listened to me and let me do what I needed to do. She ran some tests, had some observation, and finally came to a diagnosis. My parents were very supportive once they found out. They gave me all of the help I needed and worked with my compulsions. They were pretty easy back then. Still, things got worse. Students made fun of me and picked on me when I would act on my compulsions. As if I thought this was normal. I knew it wasn't. I couldn't stop it. Eventually, my compulsions once again changed. Now, they are easily managed and cause me no harm. I know that even as a child, my OCD wasn't as bad as some other cases. It was a lot better than some cases. However, when dealing with that, your world comes crashing down. I was lucky and had a family that stood behind me and the disease they didn't understand. I had parents that did their best to make sure I was never treated differently. Without the way they treated me, I'm not sure how I would have reacted to my diagnosis. Now, I embrace it. I love it. It isn't who I am, because I control it. However, it is a part of who I am. I have won. Not totally. I still have small battles every day. However, I have learned when and how far I can push myself. I have won.
Second, it makes me think of fish. A lot of scientists say it is genetic. This terrifies me. Will I know it when I see it in her? Will I be able to help? Will hers be worse than mine? Will I push her too far? Will she be able to cope with it? Will she beat it or will it beat her? Will I be the cause for her suffering? I mean, even aside from the condition, I had society to deal with. I could understand it and live with it, but it wasn't as easy for others. And I suffered because of that.
Lastly, I would like to tell my daughter something.
Fish, it does get better. It hurts like hell to battle every single day, but battling leads to conquering. If you do have OCD, I am here for you. No matter what. Not everyone may understand, but I will do my best to make sure that they don't care. I don't care what I have to do. I will do my best to make sure you still have a normal life. I will do my best to make sure that it is as easy as possible for you. I will do anything and everything. Just know that as long as you keep fighting, you CAN win. I still fight it, but it has gotten easier. I promise. One day, you will win. Just fight a little at a time. I will fight with you. Your father has fought alongside me from the time he saw it in action. He always knew it was there, but after my first breakdown, he stuck by me. He will stick by you. He will do anything he can to help you. If its you, a sibling, or someone you meet, remember that they can't control it. Remember that it isn't their fault. Don't hate them or pick on them. Support them. They fight every single day.