My philosophical approach to OCD

I find it helpful to distinguish between pure O and OCD because, while I do have some triggers in my environment, they’re not consistent enough to really establish a theme, and most of the time I’m triggering myself with my own thoughts. For years I didn’t think I had OCD anymore because my OCD was so adaptive, and I had no physical compulsions, besides reassurance seeking and avoidance, but the compulsions were so covert that I rarely, if ever, noticed them. It wasn’t until reading about Pure O that I was able to expand my understanding of OCD as a WAY of thinking rather than a strict set of obsessions and compulsions. As I learned about how my OCD had creeped into the way I thought about practically everything, I became envious of those whose OCD was traceable in a specific theme, e.g. contamination (although I know this is an oversimplification, and people with contamination OCD don’t have an easier time with OCD at all), because I felt like OCD was always two steps ahead of me, distorting my thinking about things big and small. Now that I’ve gained some serious ground, I can see OCD in every area of my life through the way it distorts, but it’s still a constant battle, and I have to do mental exposures all the time. It would’ve been helpful though for people to explain that thoughts can also be triggers, because that distinction kept me in the dark for years. I thought “oh, I don’t have OCD, because there’s not a SPECIFIC trigger I can trace all my obsessions back to.” No—my obsessions are also my triggers, and they are also my compulsions, combining into one great maddening combustible mass that becomes so circular that it’s impossible to figure out where it started. I hope that people can understand this and not just think of OCD in its most stereotypical form. I suffered from harm and morality obsessions when I was really young, and I prayed and tapped and did all sorts of things that made it much easier to diagnose back then, but since then, 20 some odd years later, OCD had crept in the back door in a way that was much more difficult to track, and I spent countless hours and money on therapy that made me worse. It’s frustrating to think back on all the lost time, especially KNOWING I had OCD as a child, and that it duped me for so long afterwards in college and young adulthood. I’m more accepting towards it now, but I just really can’t emphasize enough how important it is for people to understand that OCD is not limited by “themes”, and that it uses anything to its advantage. The good thing is that once we realize that, the common denominator of OCD-thinking is easier to recognize in day to day life.

I'm stuck. My compulsions always centered around expelling all anxiety from myself, but now I've found something external that can't be neutralised - completely ego-dystonic centered around the most horrific thing I've encountered in my life and the thought that someone could know I had watched it and thought I was genuinely into it sexually. I always clung to this idea that I could expel enough anxiety that it wasn't bothering me. Wouldn't be perfect, but I could at least get rid of it enough to function well. But this has knocked me down completely: This is a thought that will always cause me anxiety anytime I think it, every social situation, every day at work is a ticking time bomb where I feel I have to avoid it. There's positives. I've learned a lot about my compulsions around perfectionism socially. After the anxiety passes I'm still confident, I'm still funny, it doesn't affect my personality. I know it isn't me. But I can't laugh off the subject matter like I would normally do, and no matter what I do I will always be able to think something that causes me anxiety on this. And when it does, my anxiety slaughters me. It throws me cognitively, if I've eaten anything, I get to taste it twice; that happened yesterday - Thankfully I have a great relationship with my manager and team leader so could convince them to keep it between us and keep working but the moment you feel your stomach go and the saliva starts to come, it's coming up whether you want it or not. The anxiety spike hits me when I wake up in the night, stopping me sleeping. When I'm enjoying myself 'too much, it brings it up to put me in my place. When I go to the gym or out with friends, the fear of the anxiety hits me. It's actually not even the situation anymore, it's the anxiety about the anxiety. But I've watched myself slide backwards from all the incredible progress I've made. I've made mistake after mistake feeding compulsions I never should've done, all the time working towards a different compulsion that I thought would magically fix all this. That's the most insidious thing about OCD. The more you try to fix it, the worse it gets. I've never had this before. Never something external that can't be resolved. I can't sleep much. Can't eat a lot. Watching my muscle mass deteriorate. What if it happens on a date? What if it happens in an interview? Why this? Why did my OCD latch on to something this disgusting (That one probably answers itself actually haha). Either this helps me finally realise that not all thoughts are meant to be resolved, reveals more about the OCD and helps me improve. Or it doesn't. Anyone had anything like this? A period of sustained downhill with the OCD that you pulled out of? Something external that you couldn't ever get confirmation of, but helped you in the end? Maybe didn't, but you still soldiered on anyway. Just looking for a little optimism tbh.

OCD is excruciatingly painful. I don’t think any other forms of torment on earth can rival it, except maybe schizophrenia-type disorders or physical torture. I have come a long way from where I started. I don’t believe I have OCD, as it is clinically defined, anymore (though some experts might disagree). I no longer have any intrusive thoughts. I have the silence and freedom in my mind that I always wanted—but never could attain before. But I remember the days when the thoughts ran like wildfire through my brain, each thought scarier than the last—the never-ending, repeating sentences that were like frightening music 🎶 that never shuts off. Only people who have experienced these thoughts can understand the mental pain and anguish. Even on the other side of the disorder, where I am now, the OCD still haunts me every day. It’s mostly in the background, but I can always feel its shadow. The roots of perfectionism and fear still run very deep. Every day, as I work on further recovery, I find that I am peeling back more and more layers that I didn’t even know were there. I understand everyone who says they despise their OCD. I find it hard to convey to other people the amount of pain this disorder causes. But every day now I have an opportunity for joy if I choose it. And I love that. Some days are mostly normal. I can almost forget about the OCD for hours at a time. I always sleep in peace, even my naps. And even though every day has significant OCD-related struggles, I also know that every day I am getting better.