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A small victory in the OCD fight

In OCD terms, I catastrophize. My brain takes situations to the extreme, often resulting in horrific outcomes -- in my mind.

So I'm pleased with the battle I won last night with OCD.

I fell asleep on the couch and woke about 12:30 in the morning. I got up and reached down for my computer bag to bring it over to the dining room table.

It was about a 20-foot walk from couch to table, but in that short distance I felt a searing pain up my left arm, across my back and down through my right arm. I was losing the grip on the bag and barely made it to the table before dropping it.

Then I felt a sharp pain in my chest.

Typically, OCD would have taken over about this time and told me I was having a heart attack, something my brain has been expecting for years.

Or it would have tried the degenerative spine scare -- telling me I've put off surgery for too long and now I'm going to be paralyzed.

But to my surprise, neither of those health threats came to mind. I was able to swipe away the OCD and figure that the pain, though severe, was most likely the result of my new -- and poorly designed  -- upper-body workout routine.

Victory! I went to bed and fell asleep.

Somewhere during the night, OCD must have gotten it's strength back, because when I woke OCD was babbling away:

"Maybe that was a heart attack -- doesn't your left arm feel funny. Isn't that a sign of a heart attack?"

"Maybe your spine is about to give out -- that's what you get for canceling the doctor appointment. If you get into an accident on the way to work you might not be able to walk again."

So OCD won this morning.

But I won last night.

I'll take the split decision and call it a win.

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