A Year of Yes
As someone living with OCD, I’m very good at saying no.
I say no to outdoorsy things, going out for a drink, trying new sports, and many matches on online dating. The other day, a coworker offered me a cookbook, and I returned it when I realized I wouldn’t eat a thing in there, regardless of how many vegetarian recipes there were. I panicked when the restaurant I go to every Monday for lunch closed suddenly and my coworkers expressed excitement at getting to try a new place.
Most of the time, I have to force myself out of my carefully-crafted routine to try even the smallest new thing. But lately, I’ve come to realize that my life isn’t working for me the way I want it to. I’ve fallen into a rut of doing the same things over and over, and although certain aspects of that make me happy, I’m also looking for something new that can push me out of my comfort zone, even if just a little.
That’s why I’ve signed up for an improv class this winter.
Improv, I thought, is a great fit considering that I’d like to add new people to my life, and I enjoy not censoring what I say. The randomness is part of the fun of a class where no one knows what will happen next - and it’s working through that uncertainty in a safe way where I won’t risk alienating people for being “weird.” The class is specifically designed for people who have been feeling lonely and want to make new friends. Plus, dressing up for the performance at the end could tap into the euphoria I feel in cosplay, the way I love pretending even if just for a moment that I’m a cooler person in a different, more beautiful world.
Strangely enough, even with having all these reasons to want to do this class, I was still reluctant and coming up with excuses. It’d be too expensive; I would travel there in the cold and dark; there could be ice on the ground; I wouldn’t like having the two days of the week so close to each other and would get burned out; just because the people in the class want to make friends doesn’t mean they want to make friends with me. Something inside me was grasping at straws for anything to get me out of this commitment even though I greatly enjoyed the first session and have been looking for a way to spice up my life, simply because this isn’t 100% in my comfort zone.
When I went to the introductory session, we all had to talk about why we wanted to sign up for this class. I was pleasantly surprised to hear that I wasn’t the only one feeling nervous not about the class itself, but about breaking out of a rigid routine. I wasn’t quite brave enough to own up to being in that routine because of OCD, but several other people mentioned that they were living with mental illness, addiction, and more, and hoping this could help break the cycle.
All of us are choosing to say yes to something that makes us uncomfortable. It’s a conscious choice that we wouldn’t be making if we were content with our lives the way they are. It’s easy to feel comfortable knowing that I have no plans except for video games when I get home from work, but I also loathe the feeling of boredom and stagnancy that follows.
Until now, I’ve shied away from the feeling of trying something new, even if it’s led to these other unpleasant feelings. But in 2020, I’d like to try to change.
This year, I’m making it my goal to say yes to more things, even if they frighten me. It might take me more time or self-convincing, and I might feel the urge to bolt, but I want to stick with it. I want to find something besides my current hobbies that makes me happy and new people to enjoy these new hobbies with. As many of the people in the class say, I want to try a “year of yes” where I challenge myself to say yes to things my OCD wants to say no to.
I’m making a good start - I’m committed to twice-weekly improv sessions for the next three months, I went to lunch with a coworker at a place that isn’t my usual place (even if it’s rather similar), and I agreed to a blind date with a coworker’s friend. I hope I can continue this in the upcoming year and create a life where I feel more welcomed by others and less dependent on my stories and video games for entertainment and companionship.
Ellie, a writer new to the Chicago area, was diagnosed with OCD at age 3. She hopes to educate others about her condition and end the stigma against mental illness.