Original title: “I Had an Article Queued Up, But…”
But. Well, the answer is anxiety and a little depression thrown in there. Oh, the OCD isn’t helping.
I don’t even think I am going to edit this or throw it through my editing software. (Note: I just edited that sentence.)
Ok, so. I generally have about 14 to 21 days worth of articles queued up. I post one every four days at 6:00 am.
I knew with that I had to find the right article (I’d already written) and publish it, then schedule it over various social media platforms in five ways. There’s a process.
Well, that time came, and passed- I stayed in bed. 7:00 am, 8:00 am, 9:00 am, 10:00 am, 11:00 am. My OCD was screaming at me internally. Oh, that is a figurative statement but it is as good as literal
That process wasn’t going to happen and I was a mess. I started out a mess for no good reason, now there was a reason. If I did not get out the article it would mess things up dramatically. You see, I have everything scheduled and I see one article is supposed to go out on November 11th. 11/11. I am obsessed with the repetition of the number 11 being good, but 11/10 or 11/12 being something of an omen of bad. This is my OCD.
This post is completely scatterbrained, and I hate it. But I am pushing through because I’d rather once show the inner workings rather than that which I’ve polished.
For one, I think of people with mental disorders worse than mine who have blogs, that may not have a system in place to have a few weeks worth of content queued up. Having the pressures of writing a blog about a mental disorder is paradoxically and hellishly difficult when one… has a mental disorder.
This is all a mess. I can’t stand a mess when I have a system in place to guard against such messes happening. Because I know I am prone to massive anxiety attacks and my OCD stops my brain from writing good content.
I’m even going to categorize this in my “Inside an ongoing OCD episode” section, but those are supposed to have a specific intro paragraph. This article does not.
I’m going with the mess. Because this is real. It is killing me on so many levels. My OCD hates me, and I hate my anxiety back.
This may seem like not much to you- and that is fine. I am not judging. I am, however, a true mess because I could not shake the anxiety at 6:00 am and do what I scheduled myself to do.
I can only imagine the magic I am going to have to work on the rest of my calendar to somehow convince myself I did not ruin an entire week because of anxiety and a touch of depression.
This is hell. But I do it. Because.