One of Plato’s most enduring works is the Apology in which Socrates must defend himself on trial. In a way, it’s a look at what drives a philosopher, a professional ruminator. Socrates spends much of his time in the other dialogues scrutinizing the declarations of others, and now he stands being scrutinized himself, in a way allowing others to play the role of Socrates. In this way, Plato makes Socrates a phenomenon rather than a man. Socrates is public scrutiny. Justifications for things must have public validity and that one ought to live one’s life in search of answers which can withstand the slings and arrows of Socrates. I have come to realize that I often think as if I’m on trial in front of an invisible crowd, and this unifies a surprising variety of obsessions for me. A fairly straightforward example is my fear of not knowing what to say if caught in an argument about a topic. I rarely argue about philosophical, political, or ethical topics in person. But I am always arguing in my mind, trying to come up with answers to the invisible interrogators in my mind. Whereas most people win the arguments they have in their heads (they’re rigged for a quick ego boost), I frequently lose, making me anxious about the real world situations (or so OCD says) in which I might be interrogated on such a subject. Hours and hours of ruminating go into this. On the other hand, the theme to which this concept relates can be as different as retroactive jealousy. Recently I posted about how I have intrusive thoughts about my girlfriend, with whom I have not had sex for religious reasons (on both sides), having sex or being physically intimate with past sexual partners. This is usually triggered by physical intimacy. These moments start to feel really special, but then I get these vivid thoughts of her with her past sexual partners and a voice says “You think this is special? That’s cute. Look what I did with her.” The feeling of specialness subsequently goes away and I can’t regain it. It reminds me of a scene in the HBO series Barry. When Barry tells off his love interest Sally’s abusive boyfriend, the boyfriend, before driving away, quips back with, “And don’t forget: I fucked her first. I got that shit when it was tight.” It’s supposed to seem gross and pathetic in the scene but it kind of gets to me. From what she’s told me, I would not be surprised if one of her exes would say or think something like that. The thing is, a big part of it is that I feel like I have to give a justification for my feelings of specialness to voices like these that scrutinize my feelings of specialness around physical intimacy with my girlfriend. And I have to do so in a way that would withstand public scrutiny, so even if I have an answer that aligns with my own views, it’s not enough. This becomes an ever shifting goalpost and I end up losing the fight depressed and disengaged, feeling that our physical intimacy isn’t at special after all. I could go on and talk about my communication obsessions, my religious obsessions, my other relationship obsessions, etc. I think you get the idea. But you know what? Philosophical conversations are about so much more than avoiding embarrassment. With good partners in debate, you can learn a lot, which is far more important. Why should I care if I embarrass myself by not having thought things through enough? And the guys my girlfriend had sex with have done nothing to earn my respect, especially not the particularly gross versions of them my OCD creates to mock me so. So why should I care what they think of the specialness of my and my girlfriend’s physical intimacy? There is no need to walk around with Socrates in my ear all the time. I’m not on trial; I’m on winter break, and the guy is a real buzzkill.

(Sorry for the long post!) So one of the OCD things that most affects me at times, and that I have not really found other people dealing with (in literature or in my work as a therapist working with people with OCD), is one that often relates to potential dating and people I am interested in. Typically, as a gay male, I meet people on chat apps or dating sites, so the first interactions are virtual. What I find often happens is that I sort of build an image of the person, and then if anything goes against that, I start to get anxious and the OCD kicks in. An example may work best. I started talking to a guy that I find incredibly attractive, and who seems to find me attractive as well, and when we became friends on instagram, I saw that he has done some amateur modeling for a friend who does pictures in various states of undress. There are a few in underwear, and a few with no clothes (no genitals are shown), and this started off the thoughts of "oh no, he must just want sex" or "I bet he is super promiscuous if he has pictures like these." This leads to me investigating the other photos on the site, and the guy who does the images to try and figure it out, what kind of work it is, etc. I even found a way to work it into a conversation with the guy, like "wow I don't think I could do that. You're braver than me," and he said he did it because the photographer is a husband of a coworker and expressed interest in doing the pictures, and he loves his body so didn't mind doing it, and they are really good friends now. OCD then gets triggered "he loves his body? That must mean he really IS promiscuous. What if he and the men also have threesomes?" This leads to intrusive thoughts of me having to picture this happening,or him having sex with other people, over and over until it "feels right." I'll recheck his dating profiles in which has said that he is "not into fast sex," and then think about and picture scenarios about how that could just mean he wants to talk to someone once before having sex. The OCD also affects conversations--if he doesn't get back to me quickly on WhatsApp, I scour the texts to see if I messed something up (ocd responsibility--it's always my fault). I texted him yesterday, and he hasn't looked at the messages (he has read receipts on WhatsApp), but I check and see that he has liked a post by someone on instagram or has posted a story, so I think "clearly he sees that I've messaged and is purposely ignoring it, because he hates me and wants nothing to do with me. That's it, I'm never going to hear from him again." We were supposed to hang out last week, but he asked to reschedule because he wasn't feeling well, so my OCD then said "he was at an event the night before, he probably met someone and is still at their house." He did text the next day to ask what my schedule was, and then said "perfect. I work in Lisbon until next Thursday" (I'm currently living in Porto, in Portugal, where he also lives), so he seems to be interested in hanging out, but then I think "he probably saw something that I did online or someone we both know in common somehow told him something and now he's done with me. Or maybe he met someone he's more interested in, and will just ignore me now." This type of experience has happened with several guys I've been interested in, and it has actually led to me pushing too hard and making them uncomfortable as I seek certainty, so I'm trying to be aware of that and not engage in that kind of behavior. I also realize that there are like a billion different OCD things in this post, and I'm writing another post as well related to how moral scrupulosity has been controlling my beliefs about sex, etc., something my new therapist identified after one session. Anyway, I just wanted to see if anyone has experienced anything along these lines, because when it happens it takes over and it is painful and I just want to rip it out of my head. Additionally, I never quite know how to manage exposure to this type of thing--there is the logical one of not checking social media, and not texting or re-reading texts, but it's also hard because I will actually force myself at times to think about him having sex with people, and then that makes me feel overwhelmed with anxiety, but I also can't suppress the thoughts, as that doesn't work, and am thus trying to do more of an ACT/acceptance approach. Unfortunately my therapist is out of town this week, so we can't work on anything surrounding this until next week. Thanks for taking the time to read this, and I apologize that it is so long, but it is just really sucks right now.

There’s this one situation that I haven’t stopped thinking about from last night . So basically, I was reading 'The power of Now' which is a book that I love so much and really got me into spirituality. It’s been so helpful for my OCD and rumination but it’s also been pretty triggering for it as of late, so I’ve taken a long break from consistently reading it. The excerpt I read was about abundance and how its not about being bountiful, necessarily in material things but realizing and being grateful for the things that exist in your life now and in doing so, you will open yourself up to more good things. I understood it but I re-read it a lot because I didn't feel confident enough to explain it to someone else. but otherwise I LOVED IT. It made me feel so at peace, I agreed with it, and it gave me hope to start focusing on the good things in my life rather than the bad. So when I went to bed I rehearsed myself explaining it to someone on a podcast and then all these questions started flooding in like “why should I only focus on the good and aren't we supposed to accept the good and bad? Aren’t those the values of Buddha and spirituality” “Ya, we're supposed to accept the good and the bad but why?- so we can feel more good??? And isn't the point of OCD to not label things as good and bad? and why should I focus on the good- so I can feel good? why should I feel good? because I'm worthy of it? why am I worthy of it? because I'm a good person and do good things? well I’ve also done bad things so why shouldn't I consider that. I just don’t understand why I should feel good without it being selfish. And then this went on for like 2 or 3 hours. Like holy shit. I over explain these ideas and concepts that I resonate with to the point where they don't even make sense to me anymore. It becomes very existensial very quick. And I’m not suicidal but these questions make me feel hopeless in society for some reason?? And myself. Like if everything contradicts everything then what’s the point to life? If nothing can be understood or explained in a senseful way, then how do people move forward and make decisions, like AT ALL? There’s never a right or perfect answer and I feel like with any decision I make in regards, I’m doing a compulsion either way. If I don’t answer them, then I’m avoiding it and if I do then I’m checking and seeking reassurance. I’m sorry if this was way too long and over-explained I just need some advice or to know if anyone can relate in any way. Also, I’m sorry if some of those back-to-back questions were triggering.

Last week I fell into a bit of an existential spiral, which hasn't happened for a long while. Now that I'm mostly on the other side, I think it's important to reflect on the lessons I learned from it. I hope this is helpful for others who find themselves in their own spiral, existential or not. 1. The thought, "I'm never getting out of this one," will always be there, and it will always be a lie. Whenever I fall into a deep existential spiral (which is pretty rare these days), it *always* feels as though I've uncovered some horrible thought that I'm never going to be able to get past. As if I've finally found that one existential thought this is going to ruin me for the rest of my life. When that happens, allow the thought to come and go just like the rest of the thoughts, and take some time to reflect on how you've been there before. For me, it helps to sarcastically agree with it: "Yep you're right! THIS is the one that'll do me in." 2. Keep doing what you do A major difference between this spiral and past ones is that I forced myself to not cancel any plans because of it. I played at an open mic, accompanied my friend on mandolin for his performance, and I attended a run group, all while experiencing an existential crisis. I definitely think this shortened the length of the episode. I proved to myself that I could do some pretty demanding things despite the thoughts. I was also able to reflect on how when I was forced to be present (such as while performing), the existential crisis totally subsided. Which brings me to... 3. Trust in mindfulness I absolutely get it; when you're in the middle of a spiral, the idea of just "bringing yourself into the present moment" seems laughably unhelpful. This time in particular, it really felt irresponsible to *not* attend to the thoughts. It genuinely felt like I had to *solve* these existential questions before I could move on to anything else, including the present moment. But when I reflect on the times that I felt the most at-ease, it was always when I was present. It was during the 10 seconds I took to breath and notice my surroundings. It was when I disengaged from the thoughts and allowed them to come and go. It was when I smelled the fresh air after a thunderstorm, or during a conversation with a friend about her breakup. It was when I named the feelings and emotions I was experiencing, and welcomed it all. Existential thoughts are supposed to be about reality, but when you're lost in them, you aren't actually *in* reality. They're only scary in the virtual reality of the mind. And finally... 4. Yes, the compulsions are the problem I did a LOT of research last week. I watched videos, Googled, and even dove into ChatGPT. The compulsions were obvious, and they were never enough. Every answer that made me feel a little better was followed by doubt less than 15 minutes later. In the moment it genuinely feels like you HAVE to keep doing the compulsions, but you need to trust that that's exactly what is making you feel worse. In order to stop researching, I just had to...stop researching. It was hard at first, but eventually the spiral stopped spinning, and the longer I waited between compulsions, the easier it was to move on.