Vacation Therapy
No, I’m not in this picture but a good bit of my people are!!!
Vacation is supposed to be a time to refresh and gather strength after seasons of diligent work or hardship. For me, vacation feels like a collection of days for exposure response prevention. It forces me into uncomfortable situations when I must use a public restroom or eat with my hands when maybe they aren’t clean to my standards. When I’m with my children, the anxious thoughts about what could happen to them or what they are exposed to can become paralyzing. It’s taken me years to learn how to choose rest while I’m vacating. I’m constantly using my brain to deflect the intrusive thoughts that can come with being in a new place. I know some people consider themselves homebodies, but what I’m talking about is the next level. By the time I fall into my bed at home when we return my mind is working at super speed and does not take a break.
When I was younger and didn’t know I had OCD, I would have to text or call every person I thought might be mad at me before I left town. Somehow the unknown of whether they might be at odds with me while I was gone felt paralyzing. We typically vacationed at the beach, but even the calming sounds of the ocean didn’t quiet the thought noise I heard blasting. I’d stress about germs for weeks before the trip, worrying I’d be sick the entire week. Being on the beach with people half-naked in bathing suits can produce some very unwanted intrusive thoughts that are in no way relaxing either. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to expect these types of mental critters, but it doesn’t make it easier to face.
A month ago, my family and I flew to Moab Utah with my side of the family. My father rented a fantastic house so we could hike and explore the majestic vistas that surround us. I think this trip is testing me in more ways than I ever expected and I’m okay with it. We had to get up at three am for our flight which wasn’t appealing to me as I’ve never been a morning person. Flying on an airplane followed by a five-hour car trip also wasn’t at the top of my vacation list. But despite all my apprehensions and all the what-ifs, God carried me through the challenging parts of the trip. We’re supposed to expect difficulties, even while on vacation. All three of my kids were champs for the early wake-up and marched through the trip with great attitudes. Every time I used a public restroom, God granted me the ability to take a deep breath and ride the wave of anxiety until the task was completed. One of my daughters had a toilet splash water on her legs when it flushed, and I was blessed to proceed through the day without panicking; all major wins for me. It never gets old to fight back against OCD, even when it’s tiring and feels impossible. Sure, I returned home from the trip depleted and exhausted, but it was exhaustion with a good cause.
No matter how much I want to resist, I know allowing myself to face my fears, on purpose, is the only way I’ll ever conquer my OCD. Experiencing the rise and eventual fall of anxiety while standing in the face of my outlandish thoughts does get easier with practice. I know it’ll be a lifelong battle, like all chronic challenges, but I’m learning not to resist the process and that is a beautiful realization.
