Simple thinking…simple peace

One of my biggest struggles in overcome OCD is that in moment where I feel invincible and feel really good, my mind itches back at me telling me that it’s too good to be true and I need to feel back on edge. I call this my OCD homeostasis, and my mind just needs to revert back to this. How has everyone dealt with this effectively?

Hello everyone! I’m starting to recognize when my thoughts begin to spiral, when i’m seeking reassurance or checking. But I still have the sense of uneasiness and anxiety. I was wondering what others do that allow them to move forward with their day when they realize this? I don’t know if I’m making sense, but what are ways you pull the focus back to the present and yourself? Like besides saying “maybe or maybe not”, more like what do you do with yourself after you recognize the thoughts? I feel like I’m at a “now what?” and don’t know what to do with my anxious energy. I’m trying to find something physical to help me so if you also have any hobbies or interests that help I would love to hear it.

are not random burdens; they are mirrors reflecting the meaning you attach to your thoughts. You suffer because the meanings you create are rigid and absolute, dividing your inner world into light and shadow, saint and sinner, worthy and unworthy. This split produces a double-mindedness, a divided psyche struggling to reconcile its opposites. Imagine your thoughts as figures that rise from the depths of the unconscious, much like waves emerging from the sea. They are not moral or immoral in themselves; they simply are. Yet when they reach the shore of consciousness, you label them good, evil, holy, or profane, and in that act of naming, you give them life. The moment you judge the thought, it gains substance, and what was once a passing wave becomes a tidal force crashing upon your inner shore. Consider the person with OCD who calls themselves a bad person for an intrusive thought. That judgment, born of fear and moral expectation, gives the thought weight and reality. It becomes a living symbol of guilt. But pause for a moment and ask yourself, can anyone prove their goodness? Who among us stands pure when the full contents of the unconscious are brought to light? If all humanity examined itself as the scrupulous mind does, we would all drown in despair. For the obsessive, this process happens instinctively. The psyche, in its fear of chaos, clings to moral order, even if that order imprisons it. Each thought is measured against an inner ideal that can never be met. The more one tries to be pure, the more the shadow resists, demanding recognition. This is why the thought feels so real: you have projected meaning onto it, fusing it with the moral energy of your inner archetypes. To free oneself, one must begin to deconstruct the foundation upon which such meanings rest. Morality, viewed psychologically, is not an eternal law written outside of man but a tapestry woven by the collective psyche, shaped by religion, culture, and fear of the unknown. It is a structure born of humanity’s longing for order amid chaos. To see morality as a human formation does not abolish right and wrong; it allows you to see that the moral code itself is symbolic, a language through which the soul seeks wholeness. When you loosen the grip of the meanings you assign to thoughts, you begin to see through the illusion of time and identity. The past becomes a myth retold by memory, and the future a projection of hope or fear. What remains real is the living moment and the conscious act of choice. Peace does not come by silencing the thoughts or purifying the mind, but by integrating what has been split apart, by seeing both light and shadow as belonging to one and the same Self.