My latest out of the box behavior has been bleaching the tub every time I take a shower or bath. (I say latest because my area of obsession, and the behaviors that go with it, shift now and then). I go through a lot of bleach… like a lot. I usually spray the tub with bleach cleaner, then I’ll stand in the tub and spray my feet with the bleach cleaner because (gasp) they touched the floor, so they’re germy, then I’ll dump plain bleach in the tub and swoosh it around, and I have to make sure the bleach soaks for at least a minute. After all that, I can rinse out the bleach and actually get to the bathing part of my bath. This is the routine I go through just about daily, and if at any point I were to step out of the tub or drop something “dirty” in it, I’d have to reclean whatever got contaminated. Yes, I know that is bad for my skin, but that doesn’t feel nearly as terrifying as living with filth on me. 

The worst part is, I love baths, but that’s the thing about anxiety, it can take away or ruin things you love, things you’ve been looking forward to. One wrong move, like dropping something “dirty” in a bathtub can leave you obsessing for hours or even days. 

The connection between this and my childhood story is probably obvious. As for how I came upon this anxiety, I’ll get to that part, but (spoiler alert!) the abusive dad stuff will play in. My hope for this blog is that it would help those who also have anxiety and that it would raise awareness that this stuff is out there. The person next to you, your best friend, your child, could very likely be dealing with this kind of stuff, and they may not be able to voice it. I know I couldn’t for a long time, but now I’m here to share the ugly truth about what it looks like. 

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