Ocd Inspirational Quotes

My father taught me that you can you read a hundred books on wisdom and write a hundred books on wisdom, but unless you apply what you learned then its only words on a page. Life is not lived with intentions, but action.

...The human mind is a complicated place...We hold on to things, images, words, ideas, histories that we don't even know we're holding on to.

Feelings are like blankets, covering you up so you can't see clearly, or like mazes you can too easily get lost inside. I am terrified of getting lost.

Maybe we ought to look at a guy's response to our microwave from now on." Aunt Annie said. Really." Mom said. "The narcissist looks at his reflection in it. The OCD guy thinks you don't keep it clean enough.The antisocial--" Puts his fist through it because it reminds him of his father." Annie said. She'd read all of mom's books, too. And the paranoid one would be jealous of the amount of time you spend cooking." Mom said Were you using that microwave again? Is something going on between the two of you? I caught you looking right at its clock." Annie said.

Don’t tell me you have OCD about this?” “OCD, ADHD—pretty sure if they come up with some new acronym tomorrow I’d have it.

We must respond to life's most difficult questions by humbly conceding 'I don't know the answer, and that's okay.

Though it may be a constant battle, let us not forget the strength and resilience it takes to face our fears and overcome the obstacles that OCD presents. Every step forward, no matter how small, is a triumph worth celebrating.

When I am fully immersed in my work of nourishing humanity, it fills my head with all kinds of feel-good chemicals, such as endorphins, serotonin and dopamine. Problems occur during the brief intervals between the finishing of one work and the beginning of another. During these intervals, my biology starts to get filled with stress hormones cortisol and adrenalin, that worsens my OCD. That is why, I can’t sit still even a day after I finish writing a book. Because if I do, my OCD begins to suffocate me inside my head. Hence, as soon as I deliver a work, I have to start working on my next scientific literature.

I knew I could get help and, more importantly, get better. Because suddenly I wasn’t bad, it was bad. It was no longer me, it was something else. I wasn’t schizophrenic, or psychotic, or any of the other things I thought I was. I had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or OCD. In that unforgettable moment, I took back some of my power – chunks of it flooding into my psyche, called in from afar, returning home to me.

At the Chinese restaurant, I stared out the window overlooking a tranquil garden with water features, ponds covered in lily pads, and koi fish. Amid the serenity and smell of dumplings, I struggled to breathe. It seemed the walls were closing in, and everyone was looking at me. Words danced around on the menu. I didn’t want the waiter near us. I wanted to shrink until I popped and disappeared.

One of the great breakthroughs in my own recovery was coming to understand that, while I can’t rid myself of the nagging “what if” questions that plague me, I can choose not to give them my attention.

I have a confession. I'm a little OCD when I post on social media – I tend to edit more than I should. But then I started thinking, maybe we should all edit a little more - our posts, our thoughts, our words.

A particularly inspiring story was told by a mother whose autistic son just wanted to play with shapes and shadows. He was failing in his “Special Ed” program, where he was being forced to do things he didn’t want to do. She found that the more she encouraged him to do what he enjoyed, the more his shell cracked open. And when she followed his interests and made resources available to him to support those interests, he began to talk and to thrive. When he was three years old, she was told that he would never talk. At eleven years of age, he enrolled in a university and began studying mathematics.