My OCD is definitely heavier on the O than it is on the C. That’s probably not surprising, given my anxiety as well.
“Trust me,” Mara says. “I’ve got this. You’ll be okay.”
Trust is hard. It’s not that I don’t trust her, exactly. I have complete faith that she’s looking out for me. Sometimes I just don’t trust that there’s anything she can do for me.
This is patently ridiculous, because she’s never not come through for me. I just worry about things, irrational things, all sorts of things. I worry about losing my job and health crises and how much I spent on lunch. I worry about my plants and if my house is clean enough. All these things can fall under Mara’s power, and she asks me to give them to her.
And eventually I do, and I calm down, and I go on.
“Let go,” Odin says.
There’s no accompanying promise, no guarantee. And yet he expects as much from me as Mara does, in his way.
When I can’t stand it anymore, when I’m exhausted and on the verge of tears, when I just want to stop, or maybe sleep… That’s when I’m able to let that iron grip slip and leave it up to him. When I’ve done all I can stand to do and I need to let something slip from my fingers, he’s quick to grab it up.
Letting go gives me a focus for pushing that obsessive thought spiral a push aside. If Mara has it, or Odin has it, I don’t have to have it. I can push it aside. It takes trust. Sometimes it doesn’t work out the way I want. But it helps.