Why I Write Anti-Affirmations

Because there’s a glitch in the good enough. Because reassurance makes the onslaught worse. Because everyone tells me I’m too hard on myself. Because praise amplifies my deep down fears. Because affirmations only beg the question what if my harsh inner critic isn’t being harsh enough? Because they may have missed a fault. Because a known fault is safer than a surprise mistake. Because OCD cannot be reasoned with. Because irrational fears are built on a kernel of truth. Because what ifs cannot be disproved. Because I tried talk therapy yet Poison still swirled behind my sternum, pulsed in my veins, white hot like shame. Because each bud of doubt branches into a new failure. Because ruminating and problem solving are not the same thing. Because neurodivergence (is that an identity I can claim? want to claim?) means techniques that work for others won’t work for me. Because atypical antidepressants bring slight relief to my atypical brain. Because logic is a losing game. Because surrender is the only way. Because exaggeration helps me regain control. Because my triggers are not going away. Because avoidance shrank my life. Because fear’s a dominatrix and not the sexy kind. Because allowing is better than fighting. Because trying to manage managed me. Because the only thing certain about a doubting disorder is that you can never be certain enough. Because OCD is not a cute quirk. Because perfectionism is a prison. Because I claim to value grace. Because I know my worth is not in my performance, output, or productivity. Because I will not waste my one wild and precious life acquiescing to a bitch like OCD. Because I’ve tasted the chance to be free. 

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For context, I’ve been sharing some of my “anti-affirmations” (ERP in OCD lingo) over the past year since I was diagnosed. My journal is filled with pages of phrases that say “I’m failing…” “I’m bad…” “I squandered…” “I wasted…” and though it sounds terribly depressing, just acknowledging my fears has brought more relief than I have ever known. It’s counter-intuitive, but somehow naming the fears stops the cycle of worry so I can move on with my day. I no longer need to figure out if I’ve failed, I can just be.

I am so grateful to have found a diagnosis and tools to break the OCD cycle. Before last year, I had no idea compulsions (in the obsessive-compulsive cycle) can be mental thought loops, not just physical actions like handwashing or cleaning. I had no idea I was engaging in mental compulsions that fueled my anxiety all. day. long. My compulsions look like checking, replaying, ruminating and trying to solve the unanswerable question, “Did I fail? Am I failing? Will I fail?”

If you can relate to any of this, here is an OCD test you can take. Remember, compulsions can be physical or mental and while germs and contamination is a common theme, your obsessions/fears can be about anything that you hold dear (doing something wrong, dying, worrying about your kids’ safety, etc.).

NOCD is a resource I’ve relied on a lot since been being diagnosed. They have an amazing app you can use on your own or with a therapist. I also love NOCD’s Instagram account for their relatable and easy to understand explanations of the OCD cycle and recovery process. I would also love to chat with you if you’d like! I am by no means an expert, but I can share what I’m learning on my own journey.

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This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "A Question".

Maybe is my way forward

I am a bad friend because I didn’t text her back.

I am a bad wife because I didn’t read his mind.

I am a bad mom because I didn’t keep my cool.

           Maybe.

I am irresponsible because I went to the pool instead of answering that email.

I am irresponsible because I fell asleep without brushing my teeth.

I am irresponsible because I did not wake up with my alarm.

           Maybe.

I’m the worst friend that ever existed.

I ruined her day, her weekend, her life.

I am the worst teacher that ever existed because I did not grade 

their assignment the moment they turned it in.

I let my students down.

I ruined their semester, their careers, their lives.

           Maybe.

I mismanaged my time.

I didn’t maximize, prioritize, optimize.

I am squandering my life.

           Maybe.

I have failed.

I am failing.

I will fail.

           Maybe.

I will feel disorganized and defeated no matter how much I prepare.

Every choice I make is wrong.

           Maybe.

I am not living my values.

I will always feel stuck.

I am failing at recovery.

I am not the perfect parent, the perfect teacher, the perfect person.

I am messing it up.

I am messing them up.

           Maybe.

I can’t concentrate.

I am performing a compulsion.

I am compulsing about compulsions.

           Maybe.

I am the only OCD patient to ever fail the program.

Every choice I make is wrong.

Every choice I make is wrong.

Every choice I make is wrong.

Every choice I make is wrong.

Every choice I make is wrong.

           Maybe.

I am failing.

I am failing.

I am failing.

I am failing.

           Maybe.