Originally Posted 11/22/13 on Phantasmagorias
Let’s just go ahead and start off by acknowledging the fact that I’m a little bit neurotic. My parents can gravely attest to this fact, seeing as they have had to wean me from various insane habits and try to keep me from acquiring new ones. The main battle was that of sanitation. Now, I know you are probably thinking “Gross, Callie. You refused to be sanitary?” The answer is no, I did not refuse to be sanitary. The problem was that I could not stand to be anything but sanitary. Ever. My mind constantly told me that I had to be clean all the time. “Did you play outside? Take a shower. You haven’t taken a shower since yesterday afternoon? Take another; it’s morning for goodness sake. Did you wash your hands before dinner? Not good enough, do it again. Oh, you thought about dirt? The dirt transferred from your thoughts to your hands. Wash them.” My mind was kind of a jerk to me. I was never good enough at cleanliness, no matter how hard I tried. There are many times I suspected my mind and I were frenemies.
My wavering friendship with my mind caused me a few physical and mental issues. My hands would dry out and bleed from so much washing. I would have a panic attack if I couldn’t shower. It was a difficult time. Of course, not all of this happened at once. The hand-washing thing took up my childhood, while the shower issue reign over my adolescent-teen stage. The lesser battles included thumb sucking, riding a bike without training wheels (which I refused to do until I was eight, I’m embarrassed to say), even the way my bed was set up caused major issues. My parents always tried to break my neurotics. They tried incentives, tests of will, encouraging words, breathing exercises, etc. Some - I’m thankful to say - they broke. I’m quite glad that I can tell you today that I have not sucked my thumb since I was five and I can totally ride a bike without training wheels. I also don’t wash my hands like a maniac any more. The shower thing is still a bit of an issue, but it’s more of a habit now and less of a neurotic longing to be clean. I have to say kudos to my parents for helping me break these habits without medicating me or sending me to a therapist, not that those things are bad (they are actually totally helpful), but I’m just proud that they did it all by themselves. Go parents!
What I have found through these various neurotics is that I’m not so great with change. One time I came home from school and my parents had moved the furniture in the living room. I cried. For like an hour. Because they moved the furniture. Totally not good with change. While I have grown to handle change a lot better than previously mention (like, a lot. I promise.), change is still something I struggle with. I cling to people, ideas, habits, and thoughts because I know them to be safe and true. One of the hardest realizations I have had as I have grown up is that not everything I know and love is solid, true, and safe. People change, situations change, you move, you grow, you live, you die, you add and subtract people from your lives, your ideals can change, your beliefs can change, everything can change and you are expected to roll with it. While this is difficult for me, I think I am learning to handle change fairly well and as my first semester is coming closer to an end, I look back on it and feel like I did better than I ever thought I would. There have been a few tears, a few moments of panic, but all in all I’ve gone through this semester without much of an issue. I’m coming to the point where change sounds more exciting than it does scary, which in itself is quite an exciting thing. Change will always be around me, I just have to continue to learn how to handle it.
My wavering friendship with my mind caused me a few physical and mental issues. My hands would dry out and bleed from so much washing. I would have a panic attack if I couldn’t shower. It was a difficult time. Of course, not all of this happened at once. The hand-washing thing took up my childhood, while the shower issue reign over my adolescent-teen stage. The lesser battles included thumb sucking, riding a bike without training wheels (which I refused to do until I was eight, I’m embarrassed to say), even the way my bed was set up caused major issues. My parents always tried to break my neurotics. They tried incentives, tests of will, encouraging words, breathing exercises, etc. Some - I’m thankful to say - they broke. I’m quite glad that I can tell you today that I have not sucked my thumb since I was five and I can totally ride a bike without training wheels. I also don’t wash my hands like a maniac any more. The shower thing is still a bit of an issue, but it’s more of a habit now and less of a neurotic longing to be clean. I have to say kudos to my parents for helping me break these habits without medicating me or sending me to a therapist, not that those things are bad (they are actually totally helpful), but I’m just proud that they did it all by themselves. Go parents!
What I have found through these various neurotics is that I’m not so great with change. One time I came home from school and my parents had moved the furniture in the living room. I cried. For like an hour. Because they moved the furniture. Totally not good with change. While I have grown to handle change a lot better than previously mention (like, a lot. I promise.), change is still something I struggle with. I cling to people, ideas, habits, and thoughts because I know them to be safe and true. One of the hardest realizations I have had as I have grown up is that not everything I know and love is solid, true, and safe. People change, situations change, you move, you grow, you live, you die, you add and subtract people from your lives, your ideals can change, your beliefs can change, everything can change and you are expected to roll with it. While this is difficult for me, I think I am learning to handle change fairly well and as my first semester is coming closer to an end, I look back on it and feel like I did better than I ever thought I would. There have been a few tears, a few moments of panic, but all in all I’ve gone through this semester without much of an issue. I’m coming to the point where change sounds more exciting than it does scary, which in itself is quite an exciting thing. Change will always be around me, I just have to continue to learn how to handle it.
Here's a picture of me sucking my thumb, because I felt like I needed to add a picture and I sort of talked about thumb sucking for a second there, didn't I?