Jobs, Nightclubs & ROCD

This blog and many of my future blogs will speak on my ROCD, which happens to be one of the most prevalent and pervasive recurring themes I have endured through 16 years of being with Brittni. It’s followed me along like a ball and chain with every milestone, big and small. While the content of this particular obsession may vary, my underlining mental adversity is always experienced at an emotional level. I am not the stereotypical male in the truest sense; often men have a hard time expressing themselves emotionally. Throughout my life I’ve chosen to be an open book in terms of sharing my thoughts, feelings and emotions with those I trust – even when those emotions are tied to an illogical narrative.

The following events begin at a time when Brittni has decided to attend college to pursue her academic interests while I look for jobs to begin making an income. I would find myself bouncing from one fruitless part-time gig to the next, always dissatisfied with my job description or the lack of pay. Eventually I found a full-time position working overnights restocking shelves at a local retailer. It wasn’t a rewarding job by any means, though it provided me a level of financial security that no job up to this point provided. Seeing as this was my first overnight job, it would take me time to adjust to sleeping during the day. If you’ve never worked a night shift before, it can be brutal on your circadian rhythm. I would often be exhausted and barely able to maintain consciousness during my shift. After my shift was done and I was home I had trouble falling asleep due to external stimuli around me. The lack of a proper sleep schedule began to chip away at my mental health, as my mind was once again a lush field to sow the seeds of doubt once more.

Brittni had reached the legal drinking age as new and existing friends were extending her invitations to night clubs and bars. This was typical teenage coming-of-age celebrations at the time. I too was offered to join in on many festivities, however I would often decline the invitation. This was not the environment I thrived in, and my work schedule often didn’t permit it. Loud, drunk and obnoxious characters would frequently stumble out of these establishments and I wasn’t interested in rubbing shoulders with them. Often times patrons were rowdy young men with inebriated women draped over their shoulders. This type of behaviour was foreign to me. Naturally my mind hypothesized scenarios in which these women would inevitably be sexually assaulted or at the very least taken advantage of. It made me feel sick to my stomach and left me with an intolerance of the entire scene.

While my newfound opinion of social drinking establishments was born from instances involving a few outlandish and unsavoury individuals, there was likely some truth in my conjecture. Some women were most certainly being taken advantage of and this was an unfortunate reality. None of this should be a new revelation to most. However my mind simply doesn’t operate like most people. Quickly I was engrossed in mental gymnastics, stretching reality to create stories in my mind about Brittni getting wasted and making poor decisions involving other men. Within an instant of this thought I had feelings of irritation and anger that this imaginary male would target my beloved and attempt to seduce her. I felt the overwhelming need to protect her, or rather ‘escort’ her to and from these specific social settings so that this illusory threat could be neutralized. There would be times where I was unable to accompany or accomodate her a ride due to my overnight work schedule. I would spend hours ruminating at my workplace while she was out, hiding in washroom stalls to have conversations through text message to have her check in. This of course didn’t affirm my suspicions, but my feeling was if she’s talking to me she’s not busy with another man. I was so mentally drained and exhausted from over-thinking and working throughout the night I would sneak naps in hidden corridors to relieve the anxiety, if only for a moment. Eventually these delays and distractions would catch up and cause me to perform poorly at work and my manager could see it. Naturally I was brought into the office and told if I wasn’t able to improve my productivity I’d be dismissed. I knew I was inhibited by my mental state, however I wasn’t prepared to make any changes. I couldn’t. The thoughts weren’t about to leave me anytime soon, and I had no method of making them stop. At this stage of my OCD journey I still lack any level of comprehension about what OCD is or how it manages to control my thoughts and behaviours. The shift I worked wasn’t about to become any more accommodating to my situation, and so I submitted that this job wasn’t going to work out and that’s exactly what happened. During my next performance review of which I anticipated to be negative, I gave my manager my two week notice to terminate my employment.

I didn’t love the work I was doing, and it barely paid above minimum wage. Brittni and my family were moderately disappointed I had left my job, but I felt a certain level of relief that I no longer had this additional stressor to carry. I would eventually decide I want to pursue a career in driving as it had always been a passion of mine, and so I went to a private career college to get my truck driver license. While in the short term I had made a wise choice to abandon my relatively fruitless job to start my path to a career, I also allowed OCD to continue to reside and thrive within my mind. I had essentially let OCD win – rather than try and understand why I was thinking this way I took the path of least resistance and gave in to my compulsions. Much in the same way a child with a temper tantrum cries until he gets what he wants, my OCD poked and prodded my doubts and insecurities until I reacted the way that made sense at the time. The job wasn’t the problem – it may have exacerbated my symptomatology but it certainly wasn’t the cause of my inability to operate in a functional way.

I was able to remove myself from one obsessive obstacle which was my job at the time, however my relationship with Brittni was also taking a toll. I am loathe to say that my obessive ponderance and overbearing inquiry regarding Brittni’s happenings put a strain on a relatively young relationship. The constant bombardment of questioning was enough to make her feel as though I lacked trust in her. While she didn’t reveal these thoughts and feelings directly, we did inevitably have a somber conversation over the phone regarding the future of our relationship. She proposed that maybe it was a good idea to take a break from one another, where I just needed to be reassured that these feelings I had were misplaced. This would feel like one of the longest nights of my life. I legitimately felt as though I had pushed her too far and this could be the end to my first and only relationship. I spent much of that night crying myself to sleep, regretful with guilt that I was the reason this relationship could be coming to an end. The choice was hers to make if she was to remain committed – however come morning I wasn’t about to let our flourishing relationship slip into obscurity without a fight. The next day I would subsequently apologize for my behaviour and explain that I don’t know why I feel this way. I expressed my trust in her and explained that we shouldn’t destroy our relationship and that we could overcome this challenge. The earnestness of my plea was enough to alleviate Brittni’s concern and we reconciled. I would still have periodic thoughts or fears when she was out, however I seemed to have largely abated them. Perhaps the message had finally sunk in and I had received enough reassurance. Alternatively, maybe I was too afraid to ever bring up the concern again out of fear of it being ‘the last straw’ to bury us. Either way, somehow I did manage to get over my lingering doubts and in time this thought would essentially become nullified and no longer bother me.

What was on the horizon however was a much bigger, more debilitating and crippling fear than any I had encountered ever before..stay tuned for what is going to be a rough trip down memory lane.