About Me

Hi, My name is Marie Hemel. Well, that's not exactly true. I go by another name but don't want to make that public.

I'm trying blogging lately with these blogs 000excuses.blogspot.ca and thesquabble.blogspot.ca. I think they're called that. If not, hopefully, I can fix it before anyone reads this. Anyway those are fun, and helpful for me to see them progress, but I had this amazing idea - at least I think it's amazing - to have a blog where I just journal about having OCD mostly. I'm also hoping to make progress with some of it's debilitating symptoms by writing about them and how they affect me.

Now, back to the about me portion of this About Me page. As you know I have OCD (see above), depression, anxiety (who fucking doesn't), and psychosis. <-- That there means I've lost touch with reality. They put you on some great meds for that. One of mine grows boobs on little boys. That's not just in my world that's in the real world too. On a positive note they also tripled the size of my boobs, and I no longer think demons are following me so I guess that's win win.

I'm also a mom to two great kids, and not married to my wonderful partner who happens to be one of my kid's father. I'm living off a long term disability pension because I am unable to control my symptoms and have major difficulties in social settings. I'll write more about those another time. I spend my time avoiding people, stress, and life in general. Days I spend in my room alone are quite calming. Oh, cats, I don't avoid cats. We have 5 down from 7. Animal hoarding is a symptom of OCD. Once I learned this I stopped collecting them. I wish I was joking. We also have another extended family member living with us. God bless them all for putting up with me.

So that's my day-to-day for the most part. How did I end up like this? That's a bit of a long story, so rather than rehash it and end up in tears and overcome with self pity I'll say this: I have been molested, beaten, raped, burned, spit on, neglected, had a lot of illness during my childhood - a hospitalization at least one week per year was pretty common, bullied as a child and an adult, a major pothead, sick during adulthood, homeless - sort-of, and well the most painful is I had a "late miscarriage" that broke me. For those of you who don't know what that is I'll tell you. You get all the fun of a still birth without anyone acknowledging that this has actually happened to you. Well, that's not exactly true. The nurses at the hospital I was in were amazing, my mom an angel, and my family wonderful. Maybe I'm still bitter.

Well, you get the gist of it. There's more but I know from a lot of therapy that there is no point in reliving, retelling, rehashing etc. etc. Time to move on. This is where this blog comes in. I'm going to be quite honest with what I have to overcome on another page. You see, while working on my other blog 000excuses.blogspot.ca I realized there are people who have taken on much worse and lived. By lived I mean they really lived. They left the house, and to do that they had to leave their damned rooms. They talked to people, they laughed, joked, hell all of them are successful enough for me to research them online. That's my goal: to live, cause what I'm doing now is a joke! Thanks for coming along for the journey.