Recovery

Hi everyone, I’m Andrea and I am a member of the Intake Team here at NOCD. In junior high, I was known as the “aneurysm girl” because I was convinced any small headache meant I was dying. At just 12 years old, I read something that triggered my OCD, and from that moment on, my brain latched onto catastrophic health fears. Any strange sensation in my body felt like proof that something was seriously wrong. I constantly sought reassurance, avoided being alone, and felt trapped in an endless cycle of fear. Over time, my OCD shifted themes, but health anxiety was always there, lurking in the background. I turned to drinking to numb my mind, trying to escape the fear that never let up. Then, in 2016, everything spiraled. I was sitting at work, feeling completely fine, when suddenly my vision felt strange—something was “off.” My mind convinced me I was having a stroke. I called an ambulance, launching myself into one of the darkest periods of my life. I visited doctors multiple times a week, terrified I was dying, yet every test came back normal. The fear never loosened its grip. For years, I cycled in and out of therapy, desperately trying to find answers, but no one recognized what was really happening. I was always told I had anxiety or depression, but OCD was never mentioned. I was suicidal, believing I would never escape the torment of my mind. It wasn’t until 2022—after years of struggling, hitting rock bottom, and finally seeking specialized OCD treatment—that I got the right diagnosis. ERP therapy at NOCD was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it saved my life. Today, I’m 34, sober, and living a life I never thought was possible. Do I still have hard days? Absolutely. But I am no longer a prisoner to my fears. The thoughts still come, but they don’t control me anymore. They don’t dictate my every move. Life isn’t perfect, but it no longer knocks me off my feet. If you’re struggling with health OCD or somatic OCD, I see you. I know how terrifying and isolating it can be. But I also know that it can get better. If you have any questions about health & somatic OCD, ERP, and breaking the OCD cycle, I’d love to tell you what I’ve learned first hand. Drop your questions below, and I’ll answer all of them!

December 14, 2024, marked two years since my first ERP therapy session with my NOCD therapist, Mixi. And October 2024 marked a year of being free from OCD. It was not an easy journey, confronting my fears face to face. Exposing myself to the images and thoughts my brain kept throwing at me, accepting that I might be the worst mother, that my daughter wouldn’t love me, and that I deserved to be considered a bad person. It was challenging having to say, “Yes, I am those things,” feeling the desire to run, but realizing the thoughts followed me. At the start of my therapy, I remember feeling like I couldn’t do this anymore. Life felt unbearable, and I felt so weak. I longed for a time before the OCD, before the flare-ups, before the anxiety, the daily panic attacks. I thought I’d never be myself again. But I now know that ERP saved my life. The first couple of sessions were tough. I wasn’t fully present. I lied to my therapist about what my actual thoughts were, fearing judgment. I pretended that the exposures were working, but when the sessions ended, I went back to not sleeping, constantly overwhelmed by fear and anxiety. But my therapist never judged me. She made me feel safe to be honest with her. She understood OCD and never faltered in supporting me, even when I admitted I had been lying and still continued my compulsions. My biggest milestone in therapy was being 100% transparent with my therapist. That was when real change began. At first, I started small—simply reading the words that terrified me: "bad mom," "hated," "unloved." Then, I worked on listening to those words while doing dishes—not completely stopping my rumination, but noticing it. Just 15 minutes, my therapist said. It wasn’t easy. At one point, I found myself thinking, “Will I ever feel like myself again?” But I kept pushing through. Slowly, I built tolerance and moved to face-to-face exposures—sitting alone with my daughter, leaning into the thought that my siblings might die, reading articles about my worst fears, and calling myself the things I feared. Each session was challenging, but with time, the thoughts started to lose their grip. By my eleventh session, I started to realize: OCD was here, and it wasn’t going away, but I could keep living my life despite it. I didn’t need to wait for it to be quiet or go away to move on. Slowly, it began to quiet down, and I started to feel like myself again. In fact, I am not my old self anymore—I’m a better version. OCD hasn’t completely disappeared, but it’s quieter now. Most of the time, it doesn’t speak, and when it does, I know how to handle it. The last session with my therapist was emotional. I cried because I was finishing therapy. I remember how, in the beginning, I cried because I thought it was just starting—because I was overwhelmed and terrified. But at the end, I cried because I was sad it was ending. It felt like I had come so far, and part of me wasn’t ready to say goodbye, even though I had already learned so much. It was a bittersweet moment, but I knew I was walking away stronger, equipped with the tools to handle OCD on my own. If I could change anything about my journey, it would be being open and honest from the beginning. It was the key to finding true healing. The transparency, the honesty—it opened the door to lasting change. I’m no longer that person who was stuck in constant panic. I’m someone who has fought and survived, and while OCD still appears from time to time, I know it doesn’t define me. I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments. Have you started therapy, is something holding you back? Is there something you want to know about ERP therapy? I'll be live in the app answering each and every one today from 6-7pm EST. Please drop them below!

What’s one small win or act of bravery you’ve had this week, even if it felt really hard? **OCD recovery isn’t about perfection—it's about progress, even if it's tiny. Maybe you delayed a compulsion by 30 seconds. Maybe you showed up here today to express you struggles or support others. These are wins, and they matter. Let’s celebrate them together.