- User type
- OCD Conqueror
- Date posted
- 1y
Emotional contamination, death
It might seem weird that I’m posting a picture of a squirt bottle, but it connects to my grandma, who died suddenly in her sleep yesterday. I struggled with emotional contamination for years, before I knew what it was, and it revolved around my grandma. Emotional contamination was my biggest theme, and it took me over a year to work through. It latched on to everything over my grandma-I couldn’t use the bathroom after her without scrubbing (which is the worst when you really, really have to pee but you have to clean first), I didn’t like having her text messages linger on my phone (what if they contaminated anything I did on my phone?), etc etc. So I worked through this with consistent ERP. I became ok with looking at her pictures and not knowing if I was going to turn into her, I stopped caring that she sat in my car, and that my car could have been contaminated, I became ok with using the same public restroom stall that she did—I worked through my fears that her energy would ruin me. Over time, I noticed progress from my ERP. I sent my grandma a picture of my cats on my bed—before, I would have worried her seeing my bed in a photo would make it dirty. OCD is so bizarre, but I know this community gets it. I texted her more often and could hug her. She moved out of state last year with my mom. On one of her trips out here, she gave me this squirt bottle so she wouldn’t have to pack it. The old me would have IMMEDIATELY thrown it away. But, the me who went through the most difficult ERP, decided to use it. I actually needed one. I didn’t care that my hair might be “dirty,” or my bathroom, or that her energy might go into the same bathroom where I take a shower. I’ve been using it almost daily and it’s just part of my morning routine. And now, sadly, my grandma is dead. And looking at this bottle just makes me reflect over how OCD got so tangled up in my family before I untangled it. I try to find a balance of not putting too much meaning or symbolism on things (so I don’t dip into magical thinking). I know one day this thing will break or I’ll get rid of it, and that’s ok. While I navigate grief and uncertainty and all the lovely emotions that come with death, I find some peace in knowing I was able to have a better relationship with my grandma after ERP. I’m glad she didn’t die when I was avoiding her. So, that’s my story. I’m flying out of state tomorrow morning to see my family, and I don’t know what OCD will latch on to when I go to the house she passed a way in. But it’s a quiet unknown. And this is giving me space to grieve, and feel angry and sad and all the things in between. ERP sucks, having a death in the family sucks, but somehow there’s some peace in there too.