Housewife Zen, part 2
I have recently (which is to say about an hour ago) fell in love with the Magic Eraser for purposes of wall-cleaning. Here's why, and we shall go back to yesterday's post a little bit to continue the story.
So, OCD sucks, right?
It's an odd disease, really, and whatever it is that is broken in the brain that causes it is poorly understood. Well, I'd decided I'd had enough of that and avoidance was doing me no damn good, so I started with awareness. When you get into the repeating loop you are kind of aware that what you're doing is not a sane thing while the rest of you is in the fog of "I have to do this."
I end up having conversations with myself, much as follows:
Me: Why are you doing this?
OCD: it's dirty, I have to clean it.
Me: You said that 20 minutes ago
OCD: I know, it's still dirty
Me: You can come back to it later
OCD: Just a few more minutes and I can get it perfectly clean
Me: Why does it have to be perfectly clean?
OCD: ...it just does. Five more minutes.
Me: Is it sanitary?
OCD: Yes, but-
Me: then put it down.
OCD: but-
Me: What you are doing is a crazy thing. You don't have to have this thing be perfect, so put it down. If it's that important, we can come back to it later. Is it really that important?
OCD: No, but-
Me: put it down.
OCD: Five more minutes?
Me: no. You're done. I love you and you don't have to be perfect. I know it's hard to walk away, but you'll hurt us if you keep going. Please stop.
OCD: I didn't like that the last time.
Me: I know.
OCD: Okay. I think I can do this.
Me: We can do this.
The conversation varies some, but I try to do several things to break the cycle. I try to step back and look at what's happening as though I'm watching someone else do it. What would I say to me if I were my best friend? This is awareness and detachment in Buddhist terms.
I work on calming myself and removing anxiety of perfectionism by allowing myself to be good enough. I can still love me if I'm good enough. That sounds pretty cheeseball, but that's what it boils down to. Hating it is like beating the baby to make it stop crying. This is lovingkindness or metta.
In my meditation practice, I work on doing what I'm doing while I'm doing it. Which is to say that I work on keeping my mind on doing the thing instead of making up stories about what I'm doing. Perfectionism is just a story about what I'm doing and I don't have to believe it.
So, back to the Magic Eraser. I actually got the cheapo store brand kind, but it did what it said it was meant to do, so hooray! Its finite usability gives me a very clear and defined stopping point so that even if I can't tell if I'm just cleaning like a normal person or edging into OCD territory, I have a way out of the loop. Sorry, must stop now. The sponge thingy has fallen apart.
Also, it gets all kinds of crap off of the walls that are painted with cheapo matte white apartment paint.
So, OCD sucks, right?
It's an odd disease, really, and whatever it is that is broken in the brain that causes it is poorly understood. Well, I'd decided I'd had enough of that and avoidance was doing me no damn good, so I started with awareness. When you get into the repeating loop you are kind of aware that what you're doing is not a sane thing while the rest of you is in the fog of "I have to do this."
I end up having conversations with myself, much as follows:
Me: Why are you doing this?
OCD: it's dirty, I have to clean it.
Me: You said that 20 minutes ago
OCD: I know, it's still dirty
Me: You can come back to it later
OCD: Just a few more minutes and I can get it perfectly clean
Me: Why does it have to be perfectly clean?
OCD: ...it just does. Five more minutes.
Me: Is it sanitary?
OCD: Yes, but-
Me: then put it down.
OCD: but-
Me: What you are doing is a crazy thing. You don't have to have this thing be perfect, so put it down. If it's that important, we can come back to it later. Is it really that important?
OCD: No, but-
Me: put it down.
OCD: Five more minutes?
Me: no. You're done. I love you and you don't have to be perfect. I know it's hard to walk away, but you'll hurt us if you keep going. Please stop.
OCD: I didn't like that the last time.
Me: I know.
OCD: Okay. I think I can do this.
Me: We can do this.
The conversation varies some, but I try to do several things to break the cycle. I try to step back and look at what's happening as though I'm watching someone else do it. What would I say to me if I were my best friend? This is awareness and detachment in Buddhist terms.
I work on calming myself and removing anxiety of perfectionism by allowing myself to be good enough. I can still love me if I'm good enough. That sounds pretty cheeseball, but that's what it boils down to. Hating it is like beating the baby to make it stop crying. This is lovingkindness or metta.
In my meditation practice, I work on doing what I'm doing while I'm doing it. Which is to say that I work on keeping my mind on doing the thing instead of making up stories about what I'm doing. Perfectionism is just a story about what I'm doing and I don't have to believe it.
So, back to the Magic Eraser. I actually got the cheapo store brand kind, but it did what it said it was meant to do, so hooray! Its finite usability gives me a very clear and defined stopping point so that even if I can't tell if I'm just cleaning like a normal person or edging into OCD territory, I have a way out of the loop. Sorry, must stop now. The sponge thingy has fallen apart.
Also, it gets all kinds of crap off of the walls that are painted with cheapo matte white apartment paint.