I wanted to share something positive for everyone. It's a long one By no means am I a success story yet but I am working hard towards it. 12 years ago when I was first diagnosed, I became a success story. I did the work and gave up "control" and lived a symtpom free life for 12 years. I never forgot what happened and the pain but it was in my rear view mirror and just something that happened. Fast forward to December 17, 2021 and boom, triggering thought, and I knew exactly what was going on. Even though I knew what was going I went straight back into the old compulsions. I wanted "control." I didn't want what happened to happen again. Well, it did. I went straight down the slide. I stopped sleeping, eating and was just in constant fight of flight. Intrusive thought after intrusive thought with rumination and compulsions. The first thing I did was get into NOCD and I got an appointment. From the first go round I knew I needed specialist help. The problem was that I was trying to help myself by reading every book on OCD and trying to find the "magic pill" of information that set me free. I already knew about ERP and the thoughts not being me but my OCD so I was trying to self start my recovery but while I thought I was helping myself by reading and trying to re-educate myself, I didn't realize what I was doing was a compulsion and just feeding the cycle. There is a fine line for me in terms of looking for info and seeking out reassurance and I was crossing it all the time. Well, I realized it. Deleted every ebook off my phone. Only came on the app for therapy and to throw a post down (but I realized maybe that could become a compulsion, or it kept me in the thought loop of OCD, OCD, OCD). So, I stopped doing that as well. My other compulsion is really rumination which is a bit more difficult but I am trying. Now I am about 8 days into not doing any compulsions, except the odd rumination, which I try to catch quickly. I have seen significant improvement in things but have had days of set backs, I think really triggered by the fact that I had no sleep in a month and was going back and forth about starting on meds. Again, a control issue. I have been doing ERP daily, even on my worst days. On Thursday I could barely get off the couch. I was so tired and frustrated. The intrusive thoughts weren't so much there it was the exhaustion and the weight of making a choice to take some meds or not. What really helped was a good talk in therapy. Well, I decide to take the meds and it felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Not because of the meds but because of the choice and not to worry or ruminate on it anymore. Yesterday, I felt the best I have in a month. Thoughts were still there but came and went. Anxiety was low and my enjoyment for life was back. I felt like "me." Today is much the same. Thoughts come in and out more. And the rumination is less. I am on day 3 of meds so I am sure that may or may not be helping, but I am putting it down to a combination of these things. 1. Ceasing trying to "control" everything. 2. Stopping the compulsive seeking of knowledge/reassurance. 3. Better sleep 4. The meds but the say it takes weeks to see improvement and I am only on day 3. 5. Quality therapy 6. A super support group around me. Wife, kids, friend. 7. And probably most important. DAILY ERP All this said. There is hope out there. Even on Thursday I thought there was no hope. I had had great days prior to that but in that moment I could not see the progress I had made. I may have been at my lowest point and 2 days later I feel like I am at a great point. Hopefully it continues. For now I will take it 1 day at a time and be grateful for it all. I wish you all the best. There is hope even when it is dark. I wanted to share with everyone who needs a positive story. Hopefully mine will continue down that path but I know that I don't have "control." I can only try to make positive choices and choose the path that I want to live regardless of what my OCD brain tells me. You can do this!

So... I few years ago, I did self-harm a few times, and then I got super into spirituality, and about a year ago, I remembered I did self-harm and ever since haven't been able to shake the guilt off... Constantly, every day, my mind would make me feel guilty about it and think about it all day. It's like my brain knew the thought that I could/ have cut myself scared me, so it kept bringing it up. My family had no idea I had ever done this, so my OCD told me I was a liar for not telling them about every day. I was afraid that they wouldn't love me anymore and send me to a mental hospital if I told them. About 2-3 months ago, I had gotten so fed up with having these thoughts every day and confessed to my mom what I had done, and her reaction was great. And I thought I'd never have thoughts about when I did self-harm again because I finally confessed. I was wrong. Even with people telling me that it's okay, I did that, I can't shake the guilt I had around this event, and even more so the fear/guilt around my own thoughts... My therapist and I talk about how the problem isn't the thoughts but what the OCD does to them. I try to create positive neural pathways, but that just makes me more stressed about it. There are things I'm supposed to tell myself when I feel negative, but I think I get that confused and tell myself those things every time I have thoughts about what I did. Which is feeding into a mental compulsion (replacing every "bad" thought with a "good" one. What works for me is (if I can) do nothing and have the thoughts... It's been hard to get better because I have had no idea what's been happening to me and felt like for the last year I was going crazy... I always thought OCD was cleaning stuff and physical compulsions . Everything that happened to me happened in my head. On the worst days when my OCD is really bad, every single time I was conscious and aware, I was thinking about the fact that I did self-harm. I would lie in bed all day trying to figure out my thoughts because I thought if I watched TV, I would be avoiding important things. I thought I had to figure out all my thoughts. I would ruminate, replay, and second-guess all. day. long. It was hard to do any of the things I loved; OCD took the joy out of it. It was hard to recognize it was OCD because I thought I had done something seriously bad and wrong, and that I must deserve these thoughts. I think the trick is that you feel like you must have positive thoughts, and the most distressing thing wasn't necessarily the fact that I did self-harm, but the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about it. I find the best thing you can do is just have all your thoughts in your head and try not to separate them from good and bad, if you can. It's nice to have people who understand!!!! More to come, about the journey. My favorite thing to say when I'm stuck is "that sly devil... OCD. Silly OCD is getting to me right now, but it won't last forever. That sneaky guy tricked me again." Love you!!!

Hi NOCD community, I wanted to share my story of my journey so far with OCD to provide perspective to anyone who needs it. I can't believe how far I have come with a huge part because of my NOCD treatment and utilizing ERP. For reference I am a 24-year old male, so for anyone who is like me and on the fence with treatment, trust me it is worth it. If you ever want to talk about OCD and are not sure where to start or need guidance please do not hesitate to reach out to me. I am now almost 2-years into treatment and working on recovery to this day. Sending my support to all. My OCD Story Adolescence Growing up, I didn’t know what mental health was—or even much about who I was. I was somewhat consciously aware, but something always felt off. My life seemed surrounded by reacting to fear instead of exploring or discovering like a regular kid. It felt like there was a switch in my brain that never let me settle in. My earliest compulsions were more physical than mental. One example that likely went unnoticed was how I would obsessively organize and align my toys in a certain way. It may have seemed like I was just being finicky, but now I recognize this as an early sign of OCD. The key is understanding that anything can become a compulsion—it’s not about what you do, but why you do it. In my case, it was always to avoid a bad outcome or neutralize a feeling. Another moment that stands out was in preschool during a performance. I was reciting something I can’t remember in front of an audience—a common childhood fear—but the way I coped was by repeatedly hitting myself in the head with my fist. I wasn’t aware I was doing it, but it calmed me, even though inflicting pain had no logical connection to the fear itself. Looking back, this was clearly a physical tic. My dreams were disturbing too. I’d experience that terrifying space between sleep and consciousness. My parents once had to put my limbs in ice just to fully wake me. And even the process of going to sleep became ritualistic. I had to jump into bed using my left foot, pray a specific way (including naming everyone I didn’t want to be affected by harm), rotate clockwise, shake my pillow four times, and do various actions around my room—cleaning, checking the door, and more. All to prevent the visions in my mind from becoming real. Teenage Years Though my childhood was tough, things really escalated in high school. My family life was chaotic—divorce, shifting homes, and being the older sibling trying to hold it together. I was smart and creative, and I found joy in creative writing, fantasy books, cartoons, video production, and drawing. But the storm really hit freshman year of high school. I was bullied relentlessly—for being shorter, having low self-esteem, and dealing with an undiagnosed mental illness. One night while trying to fall asleep, I noticed my heart beating fast. I panicked, convinced something was wrong. My dad said it was heartburn and gave me soda (caffeine), which only made things worse. I slept maybe an hour, and we went to the ER the next morning. After a full workup and an EKG, the doctor concluded I was physically fine and gave me anti-anxiety medication. But that wasn’t the end. I had more episodes. I became obsessed with the idea that something was wrong with my body. I had blood drawn thinking I had a thyroid issue. I panicked at doctor’s visits, which spiked my blood pressure, fueling more health fears. I was also in an advanced biology class, learning about diseases and cancers—which triggered me to the point I felt like I was going to pass out. Motion sickness and vertigo became a daily fear, and I became terrified it would never go away. That became a core theme in my health-related OCD and deeply affected my quality of life. It was also during this time I developed HOCD (Homosexual OCD). Intrusive thoughts about my male friends consumed me. I couldn’t relax around them or enjoy hanging out. I compulsively told myself I was straight, watched porn to “test” my reaction, and mentally analyzed everything I thought or felt. It was exhausting. It chipped away at my confidence, especially with women, though I know other external factors played a role in that too. Still, I had no education around mental health and assumed this chaos in my mind was normal—or that anyone seeking help had to be “crazy.” I couldn’t have been more wrong. Adulthood Despite all that, I managed to graduate high school with good marks—even finishing at a new school I attended for just eight weeks after moving in with my mom. College was a major turning point. For the first time, I experienced independence and the ability to sit with my thoughts. I still didn’t know what I was dealing with, but being away from a broken home and forging my own identity was incredibly freeing. Freshman year felt like a fresh start…until the pandemic hit. Like many others, I was forced to return home. For someone with OCD, the sudden lack of control and isolation was devastating. I was trapped in my room, stuck in my head, with nothing but virtual classes and uncertainty. Still, I eventually got back to campus, focused on my career in the sports and entertainment industry, and was accepted into a prestigious program while working multiple internships and completing challenging coursework. But with roommates and stress came new obsessions—and still, no diagnosis. I eventually sought therapy for anxiety, realizing my mental state was unsustainable. That’s when two of my most distressing OCD subtypes emerged: Staring OCD and POCD. They worked together in the worst way—fears of inappropriately staring at people, especially children. It felt like I couldn’t exist in public without fearing I’d harm someone just by looking at them. It shattered my self-worth. I couldn’t enjoy life, couldn’t even look in the mirror. The guilt and shame consumed me. I turned to talk therapy, where I was diagnosed with severe anxiety and depression. While sessions brought momentary relief, it quickly became clear I wasn’t getting better. In fact, the act of confessing my thoughts—seeking reassurance—was fueling the OCD. Still, I didn’t have the language for it. After doing my own research (a compulsion in itself), I discovered POCD and Staring OCD. For the first time, I read stories that sounded exactly like mine. I brought this to my therapist, but they dismissed it. Unfortunately, OCD is still widely misunderstood—even among professionals. Because I didn’t fit the “cleaning and checking” stereotype, I wasn’t taken seriously. In 2023—just two years ago—I found NOCD, a teletherapy platform specializing in OCD. I scheduled a free consultation, thinking “Why not?” I was miserable and desperate for relief. The therapist who evaluated me confirmed: I had OCD. She administered the DSM-5 criteria and said I was a textbook case. This was the turning point. Through NOCD, I finally received proper treatment with Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP). I learned how OCD functions, how to track and reduce compulsions, and how to sit with discomfort instead of running from it. It took time—5 to 6 months before I noticed true change—but for the first time in my life, I felt heard. I wasn't alone. NOCD gave me a judgment-free space to unpack the most disturbing thoughts and to not be defined by them. I won’t sugarcoat it—this journey has been painful, frustrating, and nonlinear. I still live with OCD every day. But now I have tools. I’ve continued treatment with multiple NOCD therapists, joined support groups, and practiced exposures: scripting, imaginal scenarios, response prevention, you name it. I’ve learned to live with uncertainty instead of trying to solve the unsolvable. The biggest lesson? Stop trying to figure it out. OCD is emotional, not logical. The moment I stopped trying to outthink it and changed my relationship with it, everything shifted. Today, I’m not “cured,” but I’m grounded. I’m more myself than I’ve ever been. And now, I want to give back. I want to share my story so others know that they’re not alone—and that OCD doesn’t have to rule your life. Whether you're 14, 24, or 44—there is help, and there is hope.

Hello everyone. Good morning to you all. This week has been tough for me. I've had a hard time keeping my head up. Every day, I wake up at 5 or so with intense feelings of dread. Shaking, racing thoughts, gagging, struggling to focus and get through work, intense feeling of panic, face flushing, wired but tired. I've been really going through it. And this is extra painful because: 1. I am doing better than I've done in a while. I've made plans and kept to them. 2. I've gotten great news this week about a potential job opportunity. It's a long-term plan, but I'm looking forward to the future like I haven't in months. (My OCD has mainly centered around work uncertainty) 3. My attitude is great. I'm not despairing. I know the morning anxiety is caused morning cortisol. I know my body may just be sensitized. I'm not actually panicking. I'm approaching the doom and gloom thoughts as I believe I should most of the time. So, what's going on? Here's my encouragement to you. This kind of anxiety is a lie. It has no bearing on reality. What I mean is when I wake up shaking, there is no actual danger. My fight or flight response is activating when there is nothing to fight and nothing to fly from. Why? Because my body is sensitized. I spent months waking up every day in a panic, giving in to intrusive thoughts, struggling with compulsions. I don't blame myself for this. It all happened very suddenly and I had no idea what was going on. Once I did, I started fighting it. But damage has been done. And damage takes time to heal. Every time I panicked, I reenforced that fight or flight response. I told my body it was right to panic. And so, now, it is sensitized. It responds with an unusual and inappropriate amount of panic to everything, especially mornings. What I try to remember, and encourage you to remember as well, is this: It takes time to heal. It is very easy for me to start to panic or despair. After all, I feel like I'm doing everything right. Obviously, there are things I can improve on, but I'm getting better. I'm starting to eat better. I'm exercising more. I'm floating through the anxiety. I'm cutting out compulsions. My job prospects are looking up. My relationship with my spouse and family is great. So why? Why? Why? Stop. Don't panic. Remember. You can do absolutely everything right. Anxiety can still come. That's what I mean when is said anxiety is a lie. It is. It's lying to you. You're just sensitized. Remember that it takes time to heal. It doesn't happen overnight. Don't let anxiety control your actions. Don't let it cause you stress and keep you in that cycle. Don't freak out when your heart races or you feel a surge of energy and you want to do anything to escape. Sit in that anxiety and let it pass by as it wishes. If you keep this up, it will get better. You'll become less sensitized. You'll have less anxiety. And when you do have it, it will bother you less, and less, and less. It just takes time. The biggest breakthroughs are often proceeded by the greatest struggles. Don't stop doing the right thing just because it doesn't "feel" good. Feelings are liers. Do what you're supposed to do despite the feelings. Keep up the good work. You're closer to success than you think. Go do something fun today. I'm going to go to the mall and I'm going to live in the present moment, whether anxiety is there or not. Thank you for reading. I am praying for you all.