I’m afraid of eggs. I can’t have a carton of eggs in the fridge. I haven’t ordered them at a restaurant in over two years. My son has an egg allergy, and whenever we are around eggs, my brain sends me these images or flashes of him somehow getting a piece of the eggs. Then I see him gasping for air, and it literally creates a pit in my stomach because I love him more than I love to breathe. I would never hurt him. Yes, eggs allergies are important, and restaurants should be mandated to have allergy menus available for customers upon request. However, this has more to do with my issues than anything my son cannot eat. I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or OCD. Most people hear this about me and probably think I’m a clean freak, but that’s only one type of OCD and a generalization stemming from poor media coverage about this mental illness. Unfortunately, organization and cleanliness are only one color in the rainbow of OCD subtypes that a person can suffer from. Most experts agree that OCD people experience intrusive thoughts just like we all do; the difference is OCD sufferers have a tremendous amount of anxiety due to these thoughts. Some people see these as images or flashes that can be disturbing or prey on what we care about the most. The anxiety we feel, as a result, is met with another option. Perform a mental or physical compulsion designed to give you temporary relief but will only return wanting more of your time and presence the next go-round. Some OCD sufferers experience this constantly. If I tell you not to think of the pink elephant, you will understand the challenging nature of treating this silent killer. I say silent because many people begin having these experiences and feel an increased and overinflated sense of responsibility based on their thoughts or compulsions become un-ending demanding more of their unlucky victim who believes by performing compulsions they are proving relief to themselves. Then they do this over and over again. Remember the O in OCD? It stands for obsessive, which can create concrete-like neural pathways in the person’s mind. If they suffer silently for years or even decades, the results can damage the person with OCD and their relationships to all forms of life. The good news is through something called Exposure Response Therapy or ERP, which is considered the gold standard for OCD treatment, people can see fundamental differences made in their obsessions and their compulsions. While no “cure” currently exists, many OCD sufferers know their symptoms worsen if they don’t care for themselves by sleeping or eating regularly. The bad news in this situation is that Mississippi has incredibly limited resources when it comes to this. I would know. I’m from a suburb outside the Capitol where the Governor lives, and I felt hopelessly trapped by our fragmented health systems and lack of available resources. I’m lucky to have a wife that encouraged me to seek help, and I believe she saved my life. Through therapy, medication, meditation, and a lot of help from my loved ones, I’m recovering from OCD symptoms, and now I want to help others find their way out. Our children deserve better when it comes to the early identification of this disease. We should create partnerships to ensure teachers, counselors, and parents have the knowledge to talk with their kids about OCD. Early prevention could help one less child stay up at night performing compulsions until they pass out and then underperforming at school due to lack of sleep. We have to do better. I bought a carton of eggs, and they’re sitting in my fridge right now. I’ll let you know how my next omelet is.

Have you ever had a thought so unsettling it stopped you in your tracks? That’s how postpartum OCD started for me, triggered by my grandfather’s passing. After he died, a terrifying question popped into my head—What if I’m not a good person? From that moment, I became afraid of my own thoughts. When I had my daughter, a new fear took over: What if I could hurt her? I avoided being alone with her and constantly sought reassurance, but nothing eased the panic—until I found NOCD and realized I had OCD. Therapy was terrifying, but learning to face my fears instead of running from them changed everything. One day, when I was alone with my daughter, the thoughts came, and I simply responded, Maybe I could. Maybe I couldn’t, and moved on. That’s when I knew I was getting better. OCD no longer controls my life—and if you’re struggling, know that recovery is possible. I’ll be live on the app around 6:00 PM CT answering any questions, so ask away!"

I’ve always had OCD, and for most of my life it was little things that seemed manageable at the time or something that would phase out of my head within a couple days/weeks/months. But, the older I got the more severe it became, I’d find myself collapsing deeper and deeper within my own head trying to out think the thoughts that bothered me. About a year ago I had a thought that rattled me to my core. My brothers and I were watching a movie in our mother’s room when my youngest brother turned to me to say something. His close proximity to me triggered a fleeting sexually explicit image in my head and that thought caused me to spiral. Asking questions like, “are you attracted to your minor brother? Are you attracted to minors? Are you gay? Etc.” a couple days went by and my mental stability continued to crumble until I broke down to my mother, she was understanding and we found a a psychiatrist. I got on medication and for a while everything was slowly but surely trending in a positive direction. The thoughts would still pop into my head but they were becoming more manageable. As we all know OCD and mental illness comes in waves. Currently my OCD has been pretty severe. I feel those intrusive thoughts latching on in my head and it’s been very hard to kick them. It’s gotten to the point where I find myself being uncomfortable being in close proximity with my little brother because I feel as though I am capable of harming him in any way. And the more uncomfortable I become being around him the more I find myself lashing out in anger towards the people I care about the most. Those moments of anger cause me to spiral even farther as my head fills with ideas like “what if you are capable of hurting someone or even murdering them?” There’s times where these thoughts rattle me so much that I feel like it would be better to be in prison where I couldn’t harm someone or that even being dead would be a better solution than possibly running the risk of hurting someone in my life I care about. This is about the jist of it, a majority of the OCD I have is centered around the idea that I am capable of harming my little brother physically, mentally, sexually. It’s been exhausting and it feels like there is no end in sight.

In 2023, as I was finally getting sober from harder substances, I found myself in one of the scariest mental spaces I'd ever known. I was still smoking daily, my relationship was rocky, and one night—it all hit me. It felt like I had slipped into a video game. Nothing felt real… or maybe everything felt too real. The world around me was distorted. I had always dealt with anxiety, but this? This was something else. I was spiraling—drenched in guilt over everything I'd ever done, every person I thought I hurt, every wrong I tried to make right all at once. It was suffocating. At 23, I tried checking myself into a mental hospital—something I hadn’t done since I was 17. I was desperate to understand what was happening. My relationship took a hit as I spilled every ounce of guilt I carried to my partner, unable to stop the cycle. It wasn’t just anxiety. It was OCD. And while the diagnosis was terrifying at first, it was also reassuring. I finally had a name for the storm inside me. I wasn’t alone. People I admire—like Jenna Ortega—deal with this too. It’s not just me. It’s real, it’s hard, but it’s also something I can face. Since then, I’ve made big changes. I stopped smoking—realizing it only made the noise in my head louder. I started therapy. My partner didn’t understand at first, but as we both learned more about OCD together, we grew stronger. We’re now engaged, and I’m happier than I’ve ever been. But now it’s time to reconnect—with myself. I want to find the me before everything. The creative, passionate, connected me. I want to start streaming games again and hopefully rebuild the following I lost. I want to connect with people again—I don’t have many friends left, but I’m determined to find my people again. I’m also diving back into my art. Journaling. Sketching—even when I don’t like it. Because it’s the act of creating that heals, not just the end result. I won’t let OCD run my life. I will prevail.