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She walked slowly towards the house. A transfer of guilt must be achieved, she recited in her head. She was moving her fingers, clutching at the bottom of the jacket. The straw lost somewhere, she kept moving her fingers to mimic cradling it. A transfer of guilt must be achieved. What was the rest?

It was the second polar vortex in four years to hit the city this hard. Pounds of air stood packed around her so she felt boxed every step.  She couldn’t see. Snow fell all around her and because the wind whipped her face with each violent gale, she was also forced to look down. Forced to crawl upright, she could only feel her way through: the knife-life breezes, the sting right below her eyes with every movement, every touch of sleet against her skin a slow-drawn slap. Every snowflake bruised her; it’s touch burrowed hard beneath her cheekbones and lingered.  She was red faced and trudging. I am trudging. This is what trudging is.  Her eyes were brimming with tears that wouldn’t leave the bottom of her lids. It is freezing. They were frozen there. A transfer of guilt must be achieved.

Her eyelashes were coated in snow and she could hardly make out the building in front of her. Being drawn to the light in the window, she floated like a black moth to the driveway. As the girl stepped closer, she could see there were candles, maybe a soft lamp, burning in the upstairs window. Everything else was dusky and had the stale feel of abandonment. The house was coated an ashen gray color by owner or night, tall, protruding but with no bright awning or curtains or mailbox or car. No song wafting through the howl of the storm. There was no sense of welcome but it was her only option. Let it be a party. Let it be jovial and light inside. You can deceive yourself into believing anything just so you’ll participate.
About thirty feet from the door, her body was suddenly struck with sensation: panic. This is respite. Stillness creates panic. She stood still and let a shiver take her; let something pass through her. The future was here and it was portentous. She grabbed the sapphire amulet around her neck. God, give me strength. Pausing at the top of the yard, she allowed her breath to come out slowly, deliberately and with planning. What do I look like? She was draped in all black but blue in her flesh; pallid and chattering. She was a ghost in a cloak. Blue like ice. Blue like river. Blue like the ash-filled locket. Give me warmth. Her breath was slow and deliberate and planned. The girl was pacing herself in stillness instead of step.

Before continuing, she allowed her body to stay there, frozen from foresight and weather, in a posture of complete surrender. She was upright and floating allowing the wind to carry her up the short driveway to the door. There was no effort to shovel. The driveway was packed with snow too. It had taken her several steps to get from car to driveway and several more to get from driveway to knob. The door itself was plain beige without number or knocker.  There was nothing spectacular here. Looking around once more to confirm there was no one else on the block, she held the locket with her bare fingers and set her teeth together to quiet them. She was a shadow in the doorway. .My breath is slow and deliberate. Her hand balled in a fist, she began to raise her other arm as she fingered the silver chain.  I am breath. I am breath.  She tightened her fist B r e a t h e. She was muttering. I am safe and protected in white light. She exhaled. God, give me grace. She began knocking loudly, feeling her jaw clench and her respiration stop, the last of her crystallizing in air.

“Sometimes I ask for too much just to feel my mouth overflow.”
― Ocean Vuong 

He calls to me: “see what comes from the reconciliation.”

“I let grass grow over everything you do.”

here is the hardest sentence ever written:

body dysmorphic disorder and an eating disorder under the large umbrella of an anxiety disorder that is mostly categorized as OCD that was masked by dissociative daydreaming which caused me to drink heavily and binge eat to help escape the fact that I was both anxious and escaping (when i wasnt starving myself, counting calories or obsessively going to gym)which led to depression which is increased in the winter and created chronic suicidal ideation because i felt like no one listened understood my peculiar rituals and ocd and then led to a severe psychosomatic disorder that manifests many hypochondriac ways but most recently, globus hystericus, which means I don’t eat because I will choke to death and die and somehow bringing it all to surface in one giant flood means we finally we got to the bottom of it: all that trauma that started in childhood. ah, freedom.

the act of naming things, but get to the bottom of it

maladaptive daydreaming hid me from my monster. I dissociated to escape:

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder/Body Dysmorphic Disorder

• Having things symmetrical or in a perfect order–everything has to be perfect

• Ordering and arranging things in a particular, precise way–has to make sense in order, the right numbered order or we have to start over.
• Repeatedly checking on things, such as repeatedly checking to see if the door is locked or that the oven is off–repeatedly making lists, repeatedly going over lists, telling myself the same list
• Compulsive counting–compulsively checking the time, needing to know what time it is, needing to know the minutes are passing
• Excessive cleaning and/or handwashing—overshowering, constantly looking at dirty apartment, “my dishes are never clean” “nothing is clean” I don’t want to clean.
• Obsessively touching stomach to feel if it is skinnier
• obsessively pulling up shirt to look at stomach
• obsessively thinking about stomach
• if stomach is perfect it is the right order, things are right, correct.
  • cannot look in mirrors or obsessively look in mirrors
  • controlled eating
  • obsessive exercise
  • binge eating
  • eating does not bring joy, stressful, now I have globus hystericus and think I will choke if i eat
  • I have to stand up drink water so I dont choke, say mantra.
  • “Another person, refusing to eat because of an obsession about choking or contamination, may become extremely thin and develop medical complications.”

• Can’t control his or her thoughts or behaviors, even when those thoughts or behaviors are recognized as excessive–constant
• Spends at least 1 hour a day on these thoughts or behaviors–constant state of ritual
• Doesn’t get pleasure when performing the behaviors or rituals, but may feel brief relief from the anxiety the thoughts cause–constant obsession with lists, order, everything is right. if things are right, no one dies. I won’t hurt myself or others if things are right.
• Experiences significant problems in their daily life due to these thoughts or behaviors

Some individuals with OCD also have a tic disorder. Motor tics are sudden, brief, repetitive movements, such as eye blinking and other eye movements, facial grimacing, shoulder shrugging, and head or shoulder jerking.—constant teeth grinding, constantly playing with a straw, moving hands, nodding.

When their distress gets overwhelming, people with OCD will often engage in compulsions: repetitive activities aimed at getting rid of distress and regaining a sense of control. Compulsions develop over time, and sometimes they have nothing obvious in common with the content of the obsession. Anything that relieves distress is reinforcing, which means it’s going to seem more appealing the next time that distress shows up.

–the straw is the repeated behavior that I use. I pick up the straw and clench my jaw and pace and have the obsessive thoughts. I then spiral in the obsession and compulsion which is why I go on long walks so I can act out without it seeming too dangerous.

Drinking to numb the anxiety:

Symptoms may come and go, ease over time, or worsen. People with OCD may try to help themselves by avoiding situations that trigger their obsessions, or they may use alcohol or drugs to calm themselves.

I have OCD. that is what I am healing this year.  if I put down the straw, I will collapse. it is my final tic to remove.