Shannon Shy's Blog
August 18, 2009
Hope You All Enjoy the Book
My only objective is to help people. Please check out my interview on AOLHealth.com and the podcast of my interview on VoiceAmerica with Mary Woods at http://www.modavox.com/voiceamerica/v...
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April 9, 2009
From the Preface of "It'll be Okay"
I have obsessive-compulsive disorder, or OCD as it is commonly known. By 1997, my OCD had progressed to such a severe state that I was on the verge of becoming non-functioning, a non-participant in everyday life. At the time, I was a Major in the U.S. Marine Corps, serving as a lawyer at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. I had a wife and two young sons. OCD was on the brink of ruining my life (and I was letting it happen). The list of OCD issues affecting me was a mile long. While I discuss those issues in detail in this book, suffice it to say that I could go nowhere and do nothing without finding myself in a seemingly endless loop of intrusive and irrational thoughts, mental anguish, physical pain, and “odd” behaviors.
As a general matter, the anguish, the pain, and the behaviors were caused by OCD convincing me that I bore the responsibility for the “grave” consequences that were sure to result from my failure to take action in response to the intrusive and irrational thoughts. The burdens of the world –especially if it involved the safety of children –became mine. I was on the edge of a total life collapse. I no longer wanted to leave my house, and I no longer wanted human interaction. In fact, at the peak of my OCD affliction, I secretly and repeatedly thought that suicide would be better than the embarrassment, anguish, and pain I was experiencing.
The truth is that I suspected for many years prior to 1997 that I had OCD. Thinking back, I remember experiencing some slight OCD symptoms as early as the mid-1980s, when I was in college. However, I didn’t want to admit the possibility that I had OCD (not to myself, not to my wife, not to my friends), and I didn’t want any psychiatrist to diagnose me with it. I believed I had too much to lose. I had an outstanding reputation as a Marine officer and lawyer. I had always been a social person and an athlete (high school football player and wrestler and collegiate wrestler), and I was considered a leader throughout my academic years (president of my high school class my freshman and sophomore years and president of the student council my senior year, a captain on my high school football and wrestling teams, Missouri Boy’s State Representative, and president of the Student Bar Association in law school). Most importantly, I had a family to support –a wife and two young sons.
Although I couldn’t understand what was happening to me and even though I was embarrassed by my “odd” behavior, I had convinced myself that being diagnosed with some sort of mental disorder would not only cause me to lose my career and destroy my family, but also would be shameful. I believed the Navy medical community (the Navy provides medical services for Marines) would find me “unfit for duty” and I would be viewed by the world to be incapable, weak, and a catastrophic failure.
I was frustrated and confused beyond compare. How could this happen? I wasn’t weak! How could I have a mental disorder that transformed me from the “regular” outgoing guy that I had been into a man with inexplicable irrational thoughts and quirky behaviors that dominated nearly every moment of my life? I would be letting everyone down –my family, fellow Marines, childhood friends, college and law school friends, etc. –if it became known that I had something mentally wrong with me. Surely I would be a resounding disappointment. These thoughts prevented me from seeking help.
Finally, in 1997, after some polite nudging from my wife and a colleague (neither of whom had mentioned anything about my behaviors to the other), after recognizing that I was becoming a non-functioning person paralyzed by life itself, and after one very memorable OCD episode, I sought help and confronted my OCD. Although I believed it would be the end of my career, I called a psychiatrist. I was put on medication and began behavioral therapy. In a short period of time, absorbing the advice I had received and through trial and error, I developed and implemented a successful strategy to cope with and manage the OCD that tried to ruin my life. I call my strategy “Ground Rules and Checkpoints.” With the help of my doctors, with the support of my friends and family, and with my strategy, I turned my life around 180 degrees.
I say with 100 percent certainty that I never would have achieved all that I did after 1997 had I not sought help and taken a stand against OCD. This book tells the story of how I dealt with and ultimately came to successfully manage my OCD. I had thought about writing a book about my experiences just a few years after I figured out how to manage my OCD. I opted not to, however, because I didn’t think the book would have the credibility it needed if I couldn’t show that the strategy had any sustaining power. It’s been more than a decade now that I’ve used my strategy, and approximately six years that I have been absolutely medication free. . . .
As a general matter, the anguish, the pain, and the behaviors were caused by OCD convincing me that I bore the responsibility for the “grave” consequences that were sure to result from my failure to take action in response to the intrusive and irrational thoughts. The burdens of the world –especially if it involved the safety of children –became mine. I was on the edge of a total life collapse. I no longer wanted to leave my house, and I no longer wanted human interaction. In fact, at the peak of my OCD affliction, I secretly and repeatedly thought that suicide would be better than the embarrassment, anguish, and pain I was experiencing.
The truth is that I suspected for many years prior to 1997 that I had OCD. Thinking back, I remember experiencing some slight OCD symptoms as early as the mid-1980s, when I was in college. However, I didn’t want to admit the possibility that I had OCD (not to myself, not to my wife, not to my friends), and I didn’t want any psychiatrist to diagnose me with it. I believed I had too much to lose. I had an outstanding reputation as a Marine officer and lawyer. I had always been a social person and an athlete (high school football player and wrestler and collegiate wrestler), and I was considered a leader throughout my academic years (president of my high school class my freshman and sophomore years and president of the student council my senior year, a captain on my high school football and wrestling teams, Missouri Boy’s State Representative, and president of the Student Bar Association in law school). Most importantly, I had a family to support –a wife and two young sons.
Although I couldn’t understand what was happening to me and even though I was embarrassed by my “odd” behavior, I had convinced myself that being diagnosed with some sort of mental disorder would not only cause me to lose my career and destroy my family, but also would be shameful. I believed the Navy medical community (the Navy provides medical services for Marines) would find me “unfit for duty” and I would be viewed by the world to be incapable, weak, and a catastrophic failure.
I was frustrated and confused beyond compare. How could this happen? I wasn’t weak! How could I have a mental disorder that transformed me from the “regular” outgoing guy that I had been into a man with inexplicable irrational thoughts and quirky behaviors that dominated nearly every moment of my life? I would be letting everyone down –my family, fellow Marines, childhood friends, college and law school friends, etc. –if it became known that I had something mentally wrong with me. Surely I would be a resounding disappointment. These thoughts prevented me from seeking help.
Finally, in 1997, after some polite nudging from my wife and a colleague (neither of whom had mentioned anything about my behaviors to the other), after recognizing that I was becoming a non-functioning person paralyzed by life itself, and after one very memorable OCD episode, I sought help and confronted my OCD. Although I believed it would be the end of my career, I called a psychiatrist. I was put on medication and began behavioral therapy. In a short period of time, absorbing the advice I had received and through trial and error, I developed and implemented a successful strategy to cope with and manage the OCD that tried to ruin my life. I call my strategy “Ground Rules and Checkpoints.” With the help of my doctors, with the support of my friends and family, and with my strategy, I turned my life around 180 degrees.
I say with 100 percent certainty that I never would have achieved all that I did after 1997 had I not sought help and taken a stand against OCD. This book tells the story of how I dealt with and ultimately came to successfully manage my OCD. I had thought about writing a book about my experiences just a few years after I figured out how to manage my OCD. I opted not to, however, because I didn’t think the book would have the credibility it needed if I couldn’t show that the strategy had any sustaining power. It’s been more than a decade now that I’ve used my strategy, and approximately six years that I have been absolutely medication free. . . .
