It was recently suggested to me, by my psychiatrist, that taking the content of my obsessions, and stretching/exaggerating them to the nth degree of ridiculousness and absurdity, may well be of help to me. I am new to this idea/concept, so am not entirely sure of how it works, or how to apply it, but as I understand it at this point, I believe the idea is that in reducing the thoughts to something so absurd, it will help me to realise that, at their root, they are as such.
Perhaps then I can hold them lightly, as something meaningless and comical in their absurdity, something which can then easily be dismissed as such, and let go; as opposed to meriting them with the importance, validity and credence, with which I do now, and which serves to induce a cocktail of, fear, terror, anxiety, guilt, overwhelming distress... resulting in a cyclical trap of intrusive thoughts, compulsions and safety behaviours. You cannot let go of the intrusive thoughts, and therefore it (OCD) never lets go of you!
So, in light of this new suggestion/strategy, I have written a poem (see below), in which I attempt to find, and stress, the comic absurdity of my existential obsessions. I hope that you enjoy it, and get a laugh, or even just a smile, out if it.
I should state at this point however, if you are struggling with Existential OCD, depending on where you are in your therapy, you may find what follows, somewhat of a trigger. If you feel you are at a point where you can read it and manage, then by all means, do; however, if you feel it may be too much, then perhaps wait until you are further along in your therapy, and feel a bit stronger (and don’t beat yourself up for doing so!).
Am I really Here? Or are You really There?
Does it even matter? Do I even care?
And even if We are, and so, I, and You, exist
The riddle ends not there my friend, there’s far more of this pish
For, what is, this, Here and There, We share?
Is There part of Here, or is Here part of There?
Perhaps it’s neither!
And if it’s neither, Here, nor There, We share, then Where?
Even if We say, for arguments sake alone,
That You and I are Here,
When it comes Our time to go,
Is it There to which We go? Or Where?
Or perhaps We come back Here,
In which case, We never left,
In which case, We could not have come back, Here!
Is there, Something, or Nothing, after this Something or Nothing?
Again, for arguments sake, let’s say that We are Here,
And when We leave We go to There, or Where or Here
That does not solve the How!
How did We come to be?
Were we made? And if so,
By Him? Or Her? Or It? or What?
Or perhaps not?
If we were made by Whomever, then who made Whomever?
Or maybe Whomever made Us, but was not Whomself made?
If We were made, do We have a purpose, is there meaning?
If not, is there not?
Or even if so, perhaps there’s not?
And once again, if not, perhaps there is?
I guess what I’m trying to ascertain is, is there a point to all of This,
That is or isn’t
Does it matter what, I, or You, both say or do?
I guess that’s the problem,
You cannot ascertain the uncertain,
Of that I am certain! or am I?
So when so much is unanswered, uncertain, and unknown,
It can be hard to be the dog, that lets go of that bone,
And even when you do, what is one left feeling?
Doubt is the antithesis, to certainty’s appealing
Terror? Awe? Wonderment? Loneliness? Freedom? Unburdened? Responsible? Insignificant? Significant? Excited? Disinterested? Apathetic? Inspired? Thankful? Resentful? Happy? Sad? overwhelming fear?...
I guess I’ll settle for ambivalence,
and an ice-cold beer.