The premise behind managing your OCD is to become comfortable being uncomfortable. You’re not going to get rid of your anxiety, we had a disorder. But we can get use to it to the point where it’s just an annoyance in our life. But it takes time, patience, and commitment to getting better. You need to adopt good habits, talk to a therapist, maybe go on meds, you need to be open to options. Take it from me, I was fucking miserable two years ago, went through multiple meds and therapists until I found a system that worked. Now I’m rolling in all cylinders, close to graduating , interviewing for my dream job next week. It’s possible to control OCD, i still have symptoms, but after surviving the past 2 years it’s nothing I CNET handle. YOU CAN DO IT!

As a 20+ year OCD vet and OCD conqueror. I wanted to share some tips and tricks that help me. 1. A thought is not the same as a belief. You can think something, and not believe it in the slightest. 2. Thoughts DO NOT represent ANYTHING. They are not indicators to who we are as people, they are pop up ads for the brains computer. 3. We DO NOT control our thoughts! The average person has about 60,000 ( yes, 4 zeros) a day! NONE of which are controlled. 4. We DO have control over which of those 60k thoughts are important. i.e. thought A. I could murder my entire household- survey says? not important ( because yea, sure, you could, but you probably don't really want to) thought B. i need to do my laundy-survey says? important... unfortunately, i hate laundry. which brings me to number 5. 5. Emotional reasoning ( where you let your feelings impact your decisions) is a COGNITIVE DISTORTION. It is a flawed thought process and should NEVER be used. "wanting to do something" does not mean you SHOULD do it, same and sometimes NOT wanting to do something doesn't mean you shouldn't do it ( picked what is important) my brain might tell me i WANT to break up with my husband, ( unimportant) and it might also say i don't want to get up and go to work in the morning ( important). 6. YOU-ARE-IN-CONTROL. Not to be confused with HAVING control. We don't control our thoughts, we control which ones are important, we don't control our feelings or emotions, but we control how to react (or not react) to them. We don't control our OCD, but we can control how it affects our lives, and that can mean that is has all the power, or none. 7. If the action you want to do ( confess, get reassurance, check, analyze, avoid, re-do) are to gain relief from anxiety, IT IS A COMPULSION. DO NOT DO IT. Sit with the anxiety and train your brain to realize its not dangerous or important with ERP ( this takes time, but practice makes perfect) 8. Know your enemy. NOCD has a HUGE amount of articles and information on ALL subtypes of OCD and how to respond and how to treat them. OCD is MUCH easier to combat when you understand how it works. 9. BE PATIENT. BE KIND to yourself. Prioritize healthy habits, a healthy body is better equipped to handle OCD. Good sleep, whole foods, sunlight, social interaction, exercise ( walking especially). When the mind feels weak, make the body strong. 10. You are not alone. OCD is classified by the World Health Organization as one of the top 10 most distressing disorders. Reach out to people, seek medical help. Medication is not evil, it can be life-saving, TALK to people. Bonus Tips * if the question is " What If" its OCD. * Total certainty does not exist, be content with 99%* *"But this feels different, this feels like its not OCD, that its real*- emotional reasoning... its OCD. Hang in there. You got this. Im here for any advice, questions, or support. Today is a great day to have a GREAT DAY.

i want to get this out of the way; i’m not suicidal. i’m a 17 y/o guy whose been living with OCD for what i assume is most of my life despite only getting the diagnoses last year. i’ve been hustling on despite my mental health really consuming my life to moments in time where i question my sanity and self control. it’s the lack of control that really kills me with this disorder. each day i wake up, it’s the same persistent reminders; it’s the same meaningless conversations replaying; it’s the same small rituals that just barely let me breathe before the thoughts return. nothing i do is gonna stop that unbearable monogamy where i have to sit back and let my eyes be peeled open; i don’t know how to live with that. no pill has worked on me, and any response i give the thoughts just make them worse. right now i’m trying to just sit through it and not care. don’t let it effect me emotionally; try not to feel the discomfort. then it starts to manifest into physical pain where i feel the bones of my chest have this pressure—like staples entering them at the rhythm of a heart beat. i’m getting though this, but i’m not enjoying my life when doing so. i don’t know if i have a future where it isn’t just this repeating through the process of each day. i don’t want to spend the rest of my life avoiding the one thing i’m supposed to have control over. i also don’t want to drown my days in self medicating or get addicted doing so—like i already am. i don’t see the way to make this life of mine work, especially given how much i don’t have to do deal with at my age. of course that will come to. look, i’m not at risk; i really don’t want in anyway to die despite being basically hopeless. i’m numb to the pain of it, i don’t feel anything in my desire to escape these cycles, i just need an out. i’m not seeing a way to move forward. i’m willing to hear anything.

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.