- Date posted
- 2y
My ocd story
I’m sharing my story in hopes to find others who have gone through similar experiences or understand this, because I feel very alone with my ocd. I’ve had ocd for as long as I can remember, first memories of it was from when I was like 2 or 3 years old, and it just got worse as I grew up. I had “pure ocd” so I almost never showed outward signs of compulsions, nothing that wasn’t normal for my age group. No one knew I was struggling with this disorder, and I had no clue what ocd was, so I thought I must be just a terrible person. Around 6 years old, intrusive thoughts that I would end up k*lling my parents started, mainly from the normal childhood fear of being without them. This consumed me for every second of every day, I couldn’t get away from it. After two years of trying to prove to myself that this wouldn’t happen, which I never was able to prove, I saw my sister watching “cyber bully” movie, and I saw the $uicide attempt scene. This planted the idea in my head, that the only way I wouldn’t do all the terrible things my ocd was telling me, was to commit $uicide. I thought about walking into a hospital and telling them I was going to k*ll my parents so they could lock me away and prevent me from doing that. I developed a plan, once wrote a note and then got scared and threw it away, and one night I decided to try. I won’t get into details but I wasn’t hurt, I didn’t have the strength to do what I was trying to do. I would go to sleep crying almost every night because I was so terrified of myself. I was 100% convinced that I would become a serial k*ller, even though I didn’t want to. I started to think that I didn’t have control over my actions and my movements, and that even if I don’t want to, it will still happen, which only fueled my $uicidal ideations. Eventually I got over it all, aka I used every compulsion possible to push it out of my head, swore to myself I would never ever tell anyone that I had those thoughts. And those thoughts weren’t even the only intrusive thoughts I had, there were many more but this was one of the most distressing. I got through a very traumatizing middle school experience, which masked my ocd, and presenting with the other newest developed disorder, ptsd. I went through years of treatment and partial hospitalizations for depression and ptsd, and the first time I heard about ocd was when the intake lady said “this kind of sounds like obsessive compulsive $uicidal ideation” because attempting $uicide was the only thing I could think about, even though I didn’t really want to die. Though I did end up having multiple attempts, because the thoughts wouldn’t stop and all I wanted was a break from my own mind. I was addicted to self harm to cope with the constant swirl of obsessions. I did my own research, and finally, years later, at the age of 17, I was diagnosed with ocd after constantly asking if I had it. I started intensive outpatient treatment at a clinic that specializes in ocd. I could never have predicted how hard ERP is. I would get out of a session, and just ruminate about the next session and having so much anxiety just waiting. Between school and my lack of knowledge about ocd and my own ocd, I stopped intensive outpatient treatment, to be able to pass my classes. I start back again in later May, and honestly I’m terrified. One of the most scary parts is that I can’t tell if I’m doing it right, or if I’m making the progress they expect me to make, or if I’m going too fast, just somehow not doing it right. I end up ruminating about if I have ocd, or if I’m anxious enough, or if I’m not anxious, or if I’m faking ocd somehow, or if I’m not making progress even though I know I have considering I’m able to drive again, after being terrified for months. I don’t know how to comfort myself because seemingly every comfort I have is a compulsion. Everyone keeps telling me that it will get better but it doesn’t feel that way. It kinda feels like you’re drowning, and instead of pulling you out of the water everyone is just pushing you deeper, telling you that somehow this is how you’ll be able to breathe. How do I live a life without ocd, what is that even like? Will I ever even recover from this? I’m so lost in it all, and usually I’m considered a “know it all” but I could not know less about my own illness which is stressful in itself. I have left out many details but if I wrote it all, this would be a 100 page essay. If anyone has any advice, or encouragement, or just really anything, please share.