Was up at 5am again, got some work done. I guess that’s nice. I couldn’t sleep after that though, and I am exhausted. I presented to a Brazilian college class virtually on creative writing for an hour and a half in the morning, and it ended up being so much fun that it distracted me for a bit. Talking about myself like I’m successful or like I know anything at all lolol. But it was cool. I bounced from worry to worry the rest of the day. I wasn't able to resist little “checking” behaviors like before. I asked Jesse over and over if he thought Ezra was going to be okay, if he'd be feeling some symptom by now. I asked Ezra if anyone had been coughing a lot at school. Who was the most disgusting kid? And did that kid happen to sit with him at lunch? As if narrowing down who was the positive case would somehow allow me to calculate our odds while we waited out the next couple of incubation days. I felt guilty and bad for the checking. Like I had a choice and made the wrong one; in the past I honestly didn’t feel like I even had a choice—I had to do the behaviors. I only googled once, but I felt like shit after. I felt the extreme urge to ritualize. Like hardcore URGE, this pull, and I resisted but barely, just forced myself, which also didn’t feel totally healthy because I wasn’t really riding the wave of anxiety, but God I’m so fucked up today. Took Ezra to get donuts, took a picture of the donuts, but only once, it didn’t feel like THE picture, didn’t feel right, bad thoughts while I clicked the shutter, etc. etc. but…I left it. Didn’t delete. I’m trying to focus on these little wins.
At my appointment, we worked on a plan for when these “speed bumps” happen. When some unwanted thing occurs and I’m losing it. Some trigger. Whatever. I know most of what I'm supposed to do now, the signs I have to be on the lookout for: initial panic, worry, trouble sleeping, urges to perform rituals and seek reassurance. When that shit happens, I need to do an exposure, or an exposure statement. Or I need to reach out for help, which is not the same thing as reassurance-seeking because you’re not asking for answers, just support, like here is my plan, will you support me? And I have to keep in mind the difference between a slip and a full-blown relapse, the difference between an urge and a choice. C also said to try to create a character around the OCD “voice” that pulls me, and from what I described, he said it sounded like the bad guy in a 1980s/90s anti-drug commercial, the guy in the alleyway. It’s definitely some bad dude in my head.
Oh to reiterate, or maybe I didn’t even say, I was totally fucked up coming in. On the verge of tears. Worry-hopping, spiraling, sad, TERRIFIED. Once we made the plan, which took like an hour, I started to feel like I wasn’t freefalling. Like I jumped out of an airplane with no parachute. Because now we built the parachute. Then we did an exposure statement: My son was exposed to COVID, so he might have COVID, and if he has it, he could die, and I can’t fully control if that happens. That would mean I’ve failed as a mother, and I don’t think I could survive that. I could have a breakdown or attempt suicide. The aftermath is unknown. I had to really pay attention to I can’t fully control if that happens and the aftermath is unknown. Scary shit. I felt really anxious at first, but it started to dissipate, then turned into terror and sadness, because I was picturing Ezra dead, little kid in a casket, so I started crying, but then eventually I sat with it, kept saying it, and it got replaced with this calm feeling of just being bummed out, and he said yeah that makes sense, that’s the feeling that usually happens. I’d rather be calm and clear-headed and sad than anxious and a complete maniac. I’m going to try to do this this weekend. My homework is also to resist testing Ezra before Sunday. Just got really grossed-out typing all of this. FUCK IT FUCK THIS AHHHH
Cried again while putting Ez to bed. Did Reiki on him and he said Reiki is fake!!! But then he let me. Then I did it on myself and that’s when I cried. I saw a medium last night and she told me to keep up with the healing and that animals will be my niche. She also told me my dad was the one leaving feathers everywhere (we keep finding feathers everywhere; I did not tell her this) and that my dad was talking about coffee (that last “conversation” I “had” with him—me talking to his footstone—was about coffee) and she couldn’t have known this either, but I dyed my hair from neon purple to reddish brown (normal), and she said my dad was saying he liked my hair, that “that’s [his] Em.” I felt sad but also nice but mostly sad. I’m still sad, but I’m going to let the emotions come and go, see what happens. Also, I am going to have a beer, just one beer, a perfectly innocuous beer. I feel guilty but also I am unsure of other ways to unwind. Maybe we can talk about that.
Emily Costa is the author of Until It Feels Right (Autofocus Books). Her work can be found in X-R-A-Y, Hobart, Barrelhouse, Wigleaf, and elsewhere. She is currently working on a novel sort of about her father's video store, as well as a book of short stories. You can follow her on Twitter @emilylauracosta.
Emily Costa has had obsessive-compulsive disorder since childhood. After decades of unsuccessful treatments, her condition worsens significantly during the pandemic, and she decides to try an intensive program of cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT). Until It Feels Right is a series of framed and stylized diary entries written during the three weeks of this treatment. It’s a closer look into the realities of OCD outside traditional media depiction, a peek behind the curtain of the processes involved in CBT, and an entertaining complex portrait of a mind fighting against itself.
To pre-order Until It Feels Right, follow this link to Autofocus Books’ catalog.