Hi everyone — just reaching out for a bit of support, perspective, and maybe some guidance. I was in a relationship with someone who had untreated ROCD, and I’m trying to process it all now that we’re apart. I’ve written my experience below, not to vent, but to better understand what happened and how to handle it with compassion (for both of us).
I was in a relationship with someone who struggled deeply with OCD and ROCD, though they weren’t in treatment at the time. From the outside, things looked fine. But behind closed doors, I witnessed spirals, dissociation, identity shifts, panic, and emotional instability that few people ever saw.
We both knew about the disorder. It wasn’t hidden. They even spoke about ROCD through awareness posts online. We knew what it was — we named it together — but knowing wasn’t enough to stop it. And unfortunately, the people around them didn’t fully understand OCD, ROCD, or just how powerful and persuasive this disorder can be.
There was real love between us. Deep, honest, complicated love. And a connection that existed long before we ever became a couple — a connection I still believe in. But fear and doubt — the kind only OCD can generate — made everything feel unsafe. The anxiety got so loud that eventually, breaking up felt like the only option.
Despite OCD or not, I’ve respected their decision and given them the space I know they needed and were entitled to.
They shared a lot with me — things I won’t repeat here, because they’re theirs. But they were raw. Honest. Human. I was the one who sat through the “I don’t know” spirals. The doubts over feelings, attraction, and more. I was their rock — the one who understood. And they told me that, more than once.
Now I’m sitting in the quiet.
I’m seeing the avoidance play out: the nights out, the thriving energy, maybe even someone new. It’s hard — hard to witness such a visible shift in someone I was once so close to. But I’ve also seen the cracks. The internal conflict starting to show again. I know how this pattern works. I’ve lived it, too.
The relief never lasts forever. Eventually, when it fades, the absence lingers longer. And when it does, OCD doesn’t stay silent for long — it latches onto the very things you tried to run from and reshapes itself.
I know that if I reach out too soon — or say the wrong thing at the wrong time — I might push them even deeper into avoidance. Deeper into the version of themselves for now. So I’m careful. That’s why even this post is written with thought. Because I care. I really care.
And in the meantime, I’m working on myself — even if part of me still wants to fight for something that felt real. But I also know I can’t fight alone. I’m not shutting the door — just stepping into another room for now. A room where I can grow and heal. But the door is still open.
I’d appreciate any guidance or advice on how to approach this in the kindest, most thoughtful way — with as little hurt for either of us as possible.
Thank you all so much and I wish all of you are keeping well. Lots of love ❤️
