When my OCD was at its worst

Please note that at the time I'm writing this I'm doing A LOT better and have been for awhile now, I just want to get this out there to other people who also have OCD. (TW for meltdowns/panic attacks, and small mentions of racism, ableism, homophobia, and transphobia (in the context of OCD obsessions.), and meltdowns/panic attacks.) Basically, It was a slow build-up of symptoms from September of 2022 all the way up until early December when everything suddenly exploded. I was already having a pretty bad panic attack before my friend messaged me and helped me to calm down from it. After we finished talking, I felt a lot better until suddenly having an intrusive thought that disturbed me, a lot. Even though I knew what intrusive thoughts were at that point I still felt guilty and felt like I had to confess to my mom about it. at first, it helped. ...until I started getting anxious again, and I messaged my mom again, and you probably know where this is going. It kept getting worse despite me doing the compulsions and then after awhile it got to the point where I started having a lot of meltdowns nearly, if not everyday. For context, I also have autism and ADHD along with OCD and because of the amount of stress I was under from OCD I started having a lot of meltdowns that often consist of a lot of loud screaming or crying, which made me feel even worse. I also lost a lot of my ability to do a lot of things to the same level that I could before OCD. It felt like all I could do was eat, bathe, and sleep and all I wanted to do was sleep, even doing things like replying to someone online suddenly took hours and was incredibly draining. My OCD mainly focuses on my own morals and whether or not im a good person, and because of that my OCD started telling me that I was a racist, an ableist, a homophobe, a transphobe, a manipulator, among other stuff that im still uncomfortable talking about with most people all under the guise of ''self improvement'', and that everything that my OCD was telling me was just the ''harsh truth'' about myself that I just had to accept somehow? And by the middle of December I was hesitant to really even leave the house or my own room even to use the bathroom or get something to drink because I thought that even LOOKING at the other people, or the dogs in the house, would somehow hurt them in some way or like they could see all of the intrusive thoughts I was having. I ended up avoiding going to one of my Christmas events entirely because of guilt and the fear I would have more intrusive thoughts. and all of this lasted for about two and a half months straight. I gradually started getting better and I'm doing much better than I was but I still want to talk about it because it was still probably one of the worst periods of my life so far.