Living with Intrusive Thoughts

Day after day, month after month, year after year I live with my intrusive thoughts.

I didn’t always know or understand what ‘intrusive’ thoughts meant or what they were… and I think many people still don’t.

So here I am, once again, with a part of my story for you… hoping you find some of what you are searching for while you came across this article.

What are Intrusive Thoughts?

Intrusive thoughts: distressing, disturbing, unwanted thoughts that barge into your head with no warning. They are most often repetitive, you feel a constant hammering and find yourself fixating on these thoughts, giving them meaning. The shame and guilt that is coupled with intrusive thoughts can feel unbearable and weighs you down.

Intrusive thoughts are able to hold hands with anxiety, depression and obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) and can have a negative impact on one’s mental health.

But it is important to remember: you are not your thoughts. Thinking something does not mean you are capable of doing it. Your thoughts do not define you and they do not make you a bad person.

Life with Intrusive Thoughts

Some days are easier than others, some days are harder than others. Some days are quiet and some are loud. Unbearably loud, and chaotic.

I get these thoughts and I sit there picking at them. Digging. Digging. Digging. Making me feel like my head will explode. These thoughts that rush through my mind, I try to grab them but I can’t. I try to block them but I fail. I try to stop them but my efforts are useless. Anxiety and rumination exhaust me. It happens at any time, triggered by anything.

I think of things that I never want to happen. Envision them happening over and over again, like I’m stuck on repeat. Question where these thoughts are coming from. Do they represent a secret desire that I have? Worry that this means something bad about my character. What does this say about who I am? Am I just a vessel of evil that can crack any minute to cause destruction on all that is good?

❀ Driving my car on a sunny morning, what if I just swerve into the other lane? Coming to a stop, what if I hit the red light and crash into oncoming traffic? Moving fast, what if I slam the breaks in the middle of the road? What if I’m in the car with someone I love, what if I crash, what if I hurt them?

Once I was sitting at the back of the car, listening to the radio. And out of nowhere I thought what if I lean on the car door? Will it open? No it’s perfectly locked. But is it really locked? Wait is the door open? No it looks closed. But what if I lean on it would it open? What if it opens and someone goes past? What if I hit that person? What if someone on a motorbike is driving past? What if the door hits them? Motorbikes are fast so there’ll be no time to avoid the door. What if they get seriously injured? What if the police come? What if they think I did it on purpose? But it’s just an accident. But would I be able to prove it’s an accident. I could show them how I leaned on the door and how it opened by accident. But what if they don’t believe me. What if I have to go to a police station?

So on this normal day I sat at the back of the car thinking and almost planning a conversation with the police, contemplating about what evidence I should show if my car door hits someone.

❀ Cooking dinner, chopping vegetables, what if I sliced my fingers? Would that hurt? How sharp would the knife have to be and how hard must I cut for it to sever my fingers? Can you bleed to death from chopping just one finger?

Washing the knife, drying the knife. Holding the knife by the handle, opening the draw to put it back inside… what if I turn the knife around and stab myself? Touching the knife’s tip, how much would that hurt? Turning the knife around and poking my stomach, ever so lightly. Shaking my head, I wouldn’t do that… surely?

❀ Sitting on the sofa immersed in TV when a random memory visits me. Replaying the event in my mind, is this really what happened? Imagining various scenarios, I’m sure I did something. Filling gaps with the unspeakable, what if I really did this but I just don’t remember? Did I erase it from my mind to save myself and live in peace? Well that’s something I certainly don’t deserve… right?

What was real and what was not? Who am I? What am I?

The weight of these thoughts

It’s hard to bare this burden alone.

I have had days where I cried so desperately praying and wishing to have memory loss. I wished for my memory to go so I can forget all the thoughts that have entered my mind. The stress, guilt, shame that comes with these thoughts make it harder to deal with. I feel like in those desperate moments the bad trumped all the good, I didn’t care about forgetting my friends and family, I didn’t care about forgetting love and happiness, all I wanted was to forget these thoughts.

Even if you do tell someone of the things that go through your mind, ultimately you are left with these thoughts. They’re inside your brain, not the one who’s trying to comfort you or understand you. Not everything can be translated into words. And that feeling, that feeling inside you, the tightening of your chest, the sickness, the agitation, the helplessness, that is your feeling, it cannot be felt by someone other than you. And so this journey, this daily life, it can be lonely.

But you can’t turn on yourself. Those thoughts that pop into your head, uncalled for, unannounced. Those thoughts that make you question your entire being, that make you feel so out of control, you cannot let them win. Those thoughts you don’t want to listen to, to believe. It’s okay, those thoughts do not define you.

Once I read somewhere that intrusive thoughts don’t represent your desires, they represent your fears. And maybe that’s what it is. For some reason this gave me a sense of relief. I don’t want to hurt you, I’m scared of being the cause of your pain. I don’t want to hurt me, I’m scared of hurting me, I’m scared of not being able to protect myself, I’m scared of bringing myself only misery. I don’t want to be a bad person, I’m scared that that’s what and who I truly am and all I’ll ever be.

My mind is often a mess, some days it makes more sense than others. I hope you don’t relate to the words on this page, but if you can… I hope they bring you some comfort. You are not alone.