Tuesday, August 04, 2009

I'm Obsessed with "Obsessed!"

Okay. Now, *this* reality show is really worth watching. It's called "Obsessed" and I've caught the bug, I'm well and truly obsessed with it. Have you ever seen "Intervention," where they follow a substance abuser on a downward spiral all the way to their intervention and beyond, after rehab? Well, this is along those lines, only instead of being substance abusers, the participants have anxiety and/or OCD.

As with "Intervention," "Obsessed" helps people live better, and I'm for anything that does that. I like the "feel good" leap of energy I get, watching the cognitive behavioral therapists work with the hoarder, the skin or hair picker, and the woman terrified of earthquakes + imagined creatures under her bed.

I think the reason "Obsessed" fascinates me is, none of these people are as different from the definition of normal as they think they are. I see us as all on this ledge of life, and we can teeter off so easily into being one of them, or at least come very close. They just fell, sometimes for decades, into debilitating ways of living. But really, how different is someone who hoards things from one we refer to as a packrat? It's just that we gasp over the extremes. It makes me think of that actor, Mark-something, who emceed the green goo show on Nickelodeon. He now emcees a show on the Food Network. Maybe it's Unwrapped. Anyway, he has OCD. He once admitted that he combs the fringe on his rugs in his house and won't stop straightening them out until they are just right. Now, I would LOVE for someone to always keep my carpet fringe looking fab. But to HAVE to do it, to be so compelled that you lie awake at night worrying about that fringe, well, I want to see that person get some relief from that. Because I've lain awake at night, worrying over things. I can empathize.

On the first episode I watched of "Obsessed," a woman with some serious anxieties had a 5- or 6-year-old son with autism. She desperately wanted to get him several miles away to a place where he could ride horses. Horse therapy has been known to bring autistic children out of their fugues (not sure that's the right term.) Anyway, it is a great help, and the children really respond. Well, the woman couldn't drive on the interstate. So the therapist gradually exposed her to different levels of that, by first driving her, and then riding along with her, and finally, riding behind her a short distance. By the end of the 12-week period that the show follows, the woman patient could drive all the way to the horse ring to let her little boy ride. How great is that?!

One thing I know for certain. If I weren't a writer, I would be a cognitive behavioral therapist. Those people really are my definition of heroes. They rock. They change lives. It's not that I have this need to rock or change lives. I don't. I would just love to help people in that way. I feel so bad for them, because anxiety is no fun on any level. And I can't imagine not being able to drive my autistic child to horseback riding lessons if there were even the slightest chance that he might enjoy it.

Oh, and the patients on this show! They're heroes, too. Can you imagine a therapist saying to you, "Okay, on a scale of one to ten, what level of anxiety are you having during this exposure?" and your answering, "A ten," or even, "a six or seven?" These patients work SO hard and, really, unselfishly. Yes, they would like to get better. But often, they're doing it so they can have easier and deeper relationships with their family and friends. Because they care. Which makes me care for them.

So catch "Obsessed." Set your OnDemand and tape it. You may have to watch it in reruns, though, because the season-ending show (a hoarder) is next week. And if you don't trust MY review, check out New York Times, Wash Post and such. Appears I'm not the only one watching and raving.