Obsessive-compulsive disorder or OCD can make life much harder for most of the people that have it.  It may disrupt their social life since they try so hard to keep their disorder hidden.  It may cause side effects that make those who live with it feel different than everyone else.  The questions many people ask is “Can it be cured?”, or “Are there any treatments for this disorder?”  Some people living with the disorder have figured out how to live their life to the fullest with the disorder, but its hard to pinpoint one thing as a viable treatment.  Realistically though, living with OCD is not about surviving the disorder, its about doing everything possible to THRIVE with the disorder.

The following post is a story through the eyes of someone suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder personally.  The journey for this person may have been a tough, but, in the end, she finds ways to deal with her symptoms and live life as Optimistic as possible…

I was always a little different from everyone else; a little more concerned and cautious than the other children in my kindergarten class. I would excessively go to the bathroom during class simply to ‘check’ if I had to go because I had a fear that I would have an accident in the middle of class. I would run to the bathroom right before I got on the bus as well, even though my bus ride home only lasted five minutes. And, even if I just went to the bathroom 10 or 20 minutes prior to that. But, I didn’t think much of it. This daily sequence of events seemed natural to me and I was almost shocked that the other children did not do the same. My mom thought I was just having trouble adjusting to school, so she let the routine slide.

However, in my second and third grade years of elementary school, new habits began to appear. In second grade, I got very sick in school and had to run to the bathroom during class because I had a brutal stomach virus. I also got sick multiple times in the nurses office that day and lay in bed for a week completely wiped out and weak. Ever since then, I became deathly afraid of germs and becoming ill. I did not care as much about getting a fever or a cold. My true fear was throwing up in class or becoming as ill as I was those days of my second grade year. So, I did everything possible to prevent it from happening. I constantly washed my hands. If I thought a germ so much as touched a part of my body, I ran to the sink right away to get soap and water to clean it off. If I knew someone around me was sick, I would avoid them at all costs. I would worry a lot and try to recall the last time I saw them, and if I had a chance of catching the sickness from that individual. In school, if I had the slightest aching feeling in my stomach, I would rush to the nurse’s office.

In third grade, I began having trouble sleeping. I would sit up half the night until I finally fell asleep. I would not lie in bed trying to sleep like any other child would. I would roam around the house checking if all the doors were locked, everything was off in the kitchen, and everything was put back in its place. Checking it once was not enough, I had to check it multiple times to put my mind at ease. Then, I would walk around and go through routines of touching things in a certain order. I remember thinking, ‘If I don’t touch the things on my desk in this order, something bad will happen’. I remember rummaging through my room each night, feeling like I was possessed because my abnormal mind and thoughts controlled my body. No matter how much I thought ‘This is ridiculous, why am I doing this?’ I couldn’t stop myself. As a last resort, I would go into my mom’s room and cry because I felt overwhelmed and unable to control myself. I would stay up performing these rituals until I finally fell asleep. I arrived late to school several days this year because of my trouble sleeping. I would suffer through the rest of the day feeling very tired, with dark circles under my eyes.

By this point, my mom knew there was something wrong. She took me to see a psychiatrist. But, the psychiatrist only thought I had trouble sleeping. They could not get to the root of my problem. I don’t exactly remember, but I think I felt afraid to tell them of my nighttime rituals because I was ashamed of them and I thought the psychiatrist would laugh at me. I gradually began to stop my rituals at night because I grew too exhausted to keep up with them. I also began telling myself ‘you do not need to do this; it won’t make a difference in your life’. I would still do them here or there during the day, but not to the extent that I used to, and I would hide it from other people around me. I am happy to say, that now these ‘rituals’ are completely gone. I grew easily bored of them and now I think of them as evil thoughts trying to ruin my life, and I will not let them control me anymore.

At this point I began seeing another psychiatrist. She told me I had something called OCD and explained that the chemicals in the frontal lobe of my brain are overexcited. This is what causes my OCD. OCD is an anxiety disorder characterized by unreasonable thoughts and fears (obsessions) that lead the person to have repetitive behaviors, actions and/or thoughts (compulsions). While for the next few years I dealt with obsessions over washing my hands and going to the bathroom before every class, I managed to get along pretty well in school and I was able to hide my disorder from others around me. My OCD would get worse when I was facing stressful situations, such as beginning a new school year or a fight with a friend. However, for the most part, I was becoming better at controlling it. In the 7th grade, things started getting a lot worse. My cat, which I had since I was a baby, became very sick. I was very stressed out and depressed every day. While it is natural for someone to be upset over their sick pet, this was fueling my OCD symptoms. I started the rituals all over again. I would make sure to say goodbye to my cat several times before I left the house for school every morning. I had to repeat everything I told my cat while saying goodbye each time, because I feared that would be the last time I saw her. When she went to the vet, I was very worried. I kept telling my mom not to let them put her asleep. And even though she promised me she wouldn’t and I told her every day, I still called her from school each day to remind her once again. I visited the guidance counselor and talked with her, too. That started to become another ritual I had. The guidance counselor was very sweet and patient when I came in to see her each day, and I thank her for that. However, I don’t think she was aware that I had OCD.

When my cat passed away a few weeks later, I was very depressed. I laid in my mom’s bed the whole night and all of the next day. I believe this was not obsessive behavior, however, because it was my first experience with death. And the pain that everyone feels after losing a pet or a person they loved is the same for everyone. But, after that day, my obsessive behavior skyrocketed. I would have to visit her grave, in my backyard each day and tell her things. I would dig through all the rooms in my house and save every piece of hair and every toy she touched. Anything I thought she even interacted with in the slightest way, I saved. One day I came home from school and I suspected that my mom threw away a tissue that my cat touched. I had a complete meltdown, and made her dig through the garbage to find it. When I couldn’t find it, I felt like I wanted to die. I opened up the window in my bedroom and tried to jump out. Luckily, my mom and dad ran into my room and pulled me back in just in time. I remember how angry, upset and worried they were. I felt bad that I put them in that situation. And, I never tried to commit suicide again. About three or four months later, I calmed down and the obsessions gradually stopped. I threw away the tissues I saved. I stopped visiting her grave every day, and instead I said a prayer for her every night to remember her by. And while I still have pictures and toys of hers each day, I use them to look back on the fond memories I had with her.

In high school, my compulsions went away and I was more disturbed with thoughts and situations, rather than rituals I felt obligated to carry out. I became very involved in school activities such as swimming, spirit night, and various clubs. This helped my OCD because being busy and exercise distracts me and increased the serotonin levels in my brain (serotonin is the neurotransmitter in the brain that eludes happy, excited feelings). I would really only obsess over situations that I’m upset about. I’ll feel really guilty and depressed. Whenever I have boyfriends, I tend to obsess more than usual because I want our relationship to be perfect. The last boyfriend I had was nice at first but turned into a complete jerk in the end and ended up cheating on me. I was even more depressed than usual because of this, and I couldn’t stop obsessing over why he did it, who the girl was and why he wouldn’t tell me. But, eventually, I got over it. One night, I hung out with a bunch of other guys and my best friend. My ex-boyfriend got jealous of this and I felt so guilty that I actually convinced myself that I cheated on him. These feelings over guilt usually last for a week or so. My friends were always so worried about me because they could tell by looking at me that something was wrong. Every day of that week, I would go to school looking completely distraught. Whenever I feel as though I ‘fail’ a person I am very close to, my obsessions and depressive feeling worsen.

My current boyfriend and I had a lot of drama at the beginning of our relationship because of my OCD. He also gets himself in many situations in which I worry about his health and safety, which causes me to obsess even more. I wanted the perfect relationship with him and as soon as I felt as though I lost control, my OCD would come back to haunt me. But, we were able to overcome the problems that we had. He is the first guy I told about my OCD, and he has been very understanding and helpful about it. He stopped getting himself into bad situations and hanging out with the wrong group of people because he knew how concerned I was. Together, we help change each other for the better, and my OCD has been under control lately because of him.

I also think that I am starting to overcome my OCD on my own. I take medicine, but I still have obsessions. For me, the medicine only limits the amount of time I obsess over things; it does not prevent my OCD. The medicine also helps me to concentrate on tests instead of obsessing and not being able to answer the questions as quickly and accurately. Now whenever I obsess, I try to put things into perspective. I ask myself ‘is this really important?’ and I try to remember all of the good things I am accomplishing in my life. I fix the problem I am having and I remind myself that everything will be okay and that my obsessions are my OCD talking, not me. I should also thank my mom and my best friends for always being there for me when I needed it the most. My mom dealt with a lot of my past and even when my dad was skeptical of my OCD and depressed feelings, my mom has always been there for me. I tell her almost everything that’s going on in life and she gives me the best advice. My friends, although they have not always understood what I was going through, have also always been there for me. They would stay on the phone with me and text me for hours to cheer me up and rationalize my disruptive thoughts.

Even though OCD tortured my brain, and still continues to battle with my mind, I have come so far in my journey to controlling it. I believe that it ministered the person I am today; I am stronger, more empathetic and very understanding of people’s problems because of it. Because of this, I have been able to help so many of my friends with their personal issues and reach out to others as I would hope they reach out to me. Every morning I wake up and think about what I can do to make someone’s life and my own life better. I hope to major in speech pathology, special education, psychology or social work after I graduate from college. I want to have a job that will help others and make a difference in our lives. I truly believe that the challenges and difficulties in our lives are the things that make us stronger and lead us to grow as a person.

©2011 Anthony’s Abilities. Please contact me and ask for permission before using this writing.

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