What’s so Scary about a Silly Hammer?
A recurring theme in my upcoming book deals with the main character being terrified of hammers. She can’t look at them or be around them without feeling intense worry that she will think something violent about the hammer and then actually hurt someone with it. Naomi doesn’t understand where the images are coming from and wonders if she will actually follow through with her awful thoughts by turning them into action.
The vague description of the hammer fear in the book is more an introduction to the kinds of harm-based fears that can come with OCD. I purposely didn’t want to overwhelm readers with one particular type of fear and also didn’t want anyone reading it who might have OCD to begin worrying because of my description. The reality is that someone with OCD can be petrified to the point of panic at the possibility that they might pick up a hammer and hit someone with it, hurt someone with it, or even kill someone with it. It isn’t just a fleeting thought like most people might get every so often, but it becomes a potential belief, a self-criticism, and a label. For me, the deep sense of dread I would feel at the sight of a hammer could cause a stomach drop like one from riding a rollercoaster. I would feel needles crawling up my neck at the cascade of fear that accompanied the thoughts about what I was capable of. I knew the sight of the metal piece of equipment would create vivid images of blood and violence that would haunt me for days afterward along with questions about my moral makeup. The awful images would have to be rethought over and over in an act to prove to myself that I didn’t really want to think them. Logically, envisioning these kinds of thoughts over and over is largely unhelpful. The process creates guilt because OCD then plants the fear that the rethinking is proof of the ultimate desire. The cycle is vicious and exhausting while feeling impossible to stop. Therapy and medication definitely help slow down the Ferris wheel of doubt, but healing requires uncomfortable practice to arrive in a healthier mental space.
Conveying what obsessing with OCD looks like with words in a fictional story was more challenging than I thought it would be. Since beginning the writing process I’ve realized that writing about rumination and compulsions doesn’t fully capture what it feels like to be held so tightly in thought or fear. One of my goals for Loving Naomi is to give readers a taste of the frustration and exhaustion that comes with a brain that won’t stop circling. All too often people think that having OCD is a character trait involving wanting a well-organized bookshelf or being a germaphobe when really it is a distortion of reality that becomes the pinpoint of intense focus every moment of the day. It feels logical, but it also feels like torture.
I am happy to report that hammers no longer cause me to dread or worry. I can use them when needed without skipping a beat. I don’t enjoy home projects anyways, so it doesn’t happen too much if I can help it! Every so often, like a small precious reminder, I’ll get a tingle in my hand if I do have to hold the heavy tool. A twinge of the past comes through the nerves in my hand, reminding me of what I once couldn’t do. A strange thought may still come, but it doesn’t stick or land anywhere. I am able to blow the false truth away like a mosquito in my face. The thought has no power or sting but instead reminds me of how far I’ve come. I channel the heaviness of the hammer into a remembrance of what God has done for me by providing the tools I needed to fight back. Progress is possible, but I’m always thankful to be reminded how far I’ve come.
