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Kurt Godel was, back in the early 20th century, one of the greatest logicians of all time. He created a proof that, in essence, all mathematical systems that contain axioms (self evident proofs, first premises) are inconsistent and contradictory. Now, this stunning mind, this man with a precise grasp of logic....ended up thinking that his friends were poisoning his tea.

Of course, he became psychotic, but the point that sticks in my mind is in relation to OCD. It is impossible, however lucid and rational a neurotic can be, to rationalise an obsession. As I've said a million times before, the 'nature' or 'content' on the obsession is not the problem...it is the anxiety or whatever is at the root of your obsession that is the problem. I can't emphasise this point enough. The more you attempt to 'figure out' your obsession, or try to find an 'answer', the more mental energy you feed your obsession with. Round and around. Ever increasing circles. The trick I used then I was in the throes of obsessive rumination was to try and think the exact opposite....and, on most occassions, it helped.
 

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I may have OCD. When I "see" that I kill or turture family member and myself, I say to myself

"it is not what I really want to do, and I don't care about what I see, I just need to find why my brain/mind is reacting like this... it must be something entirely alientated than those horrible things I think of"
 

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the 'nature' or 'content' on the obsession is not the problem...it is the anxiety or whatever is at the root of your obsession that is the problem.
Indeedy. A particular obsessive rumination made my life hell for two decades. A couple of years ago I went to the Priory (nut house to the rich and famous) in a last resort effort to deal with my DP. I talked with the Doc about obsessions and phobias in general, and he (to illustrate extreme examples) told me about 'space phobia'. This involves becoming obsessive / phobic / panicky about the empty space between you and other objects, walls, floor etc. I thought 'yeah, wow - that's pretty crazy'.
Guess how I spent my time on the journey back from London...
It was at that point that I realized that there was nothing special about my 'pet' obsession, and that my anxiety was like a big, sticky ball that could attach itself to anything that I invested enough mental energy in. I even played with it for a while, attaching it to things of my choosing - snapping myself back just before a panic attack set in. Seeing that I was creating the panic, rather than being at the mercy of outside forces and processes that semed previously to have some magical phobia-creating power made me feel more in control. It's always an uneasy peace, though, and the 'old favourite' obsessions that plagued my childhood often take me by surprise, though not to the degree they used to.
 
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