Has journaling helped anyone ?

Themes constantly switching. I’ve been suffering with real event ocd the last year and am currently in therapy treating it. it’s nowhere near as bad as it was last year and it’s felt like a nice break. there’s days where it gets bad but i can’t compare it to the stress of last year. However i’ve noticed every time i overcome a theme a new one hits me out of nowhere. i’ve suffered with ocd since i was 9, and ive had multiple themes. i’m in a 2 year relationship with my partner and it’s amazing. she’s probably my second proper relationship due to the fact my first relationship gave me so much fear to get into another one as i was cheated on, and needed a few years to get over that. i kind of guessed that ROCD would creep in at some point as it just felt inevitable. anyways, i know my partner is not cheating on me, she’s beyond loyal, we are so so in love but i think due to that first relationship i had, being cheated on really messed with my head. it’s like my brain is telling me my partner has someone else even though i know in my heart nothings going on, and i trust her with my life. i also think because im in the happiest relationship of my life, anything that would indicate loosing her makes me feel sick and riddled with anxiety. and i know that’s completely normal for everyone. i think the most frustrating thing is, is knowing that my OCD has finally crept into my relationship which is something i never wanted it to do. this is a brand new theme and i have no idea how to treat this. i will speak to my therapist but if anyone has been through this theme and any advice in the meantime i would really appreciate it :).

Can anyone share any success stories regarding Pure/Real Event OCD? I think I just want some uplifting news more than anything, though this may read as reassurance seeking… not sure what counts and what doesn’t. So any education on that may be helpful too. Many thanks!!

i figured it’s better to reach out than to keep this buried. if you have anything—resources, insights, advice—that could help me, please send it my way. anything that might bring clarity, support, or even the smallest sense of direction would mean a lot. diagnosed Borderline w/ OCD July 29th i haven’t written in quite some time. journaling, once a refuge, became a mirror i no longer wished to face—each entry echoing the same obsessions, amplifying them, feeding their rhythm. i lost the spontaneity, the irregular cadence that once made expression feel free. instead, it became a ritual of rumination. recently, i’ve begun making small, deliberate changes—adjustments wherever i feel the pull. i’m starting to understand that who i am is an ever-shifting convergence of thought and temperament. my personality isn’t fixed; it’s a reflection of my internal weather. tracking my moods has helped illuminate certain patterns, revealing how my triggers unfold—but pinpointing those triggers remains elusive. the inconsistency, that quiet turbulence within, makes it difficult. there’s always a friction between my need for comfort and my hunger for transformation. i’ve always judged that contradiction in others—yet here i am, mirroring it. i’ve slowly dismantled many of my defenses, not out of strength, but out of exhaustion. in surrendering control, i’ve made room for meaning. for once, i’m not chasing perfection—I’m chasing something that feels true. psychology is calling to me. it feels like a path that might finally align with the way i think and feel. i’m changing schools, moving in with my father for a while. i need distance from this space that has become both a sanctuary and a cell. my environment dictates so much of my being. that’s how i know: if i can shift the world around me, i can begin to reshape the world within. i’m tired of this ache, this heaviness that keeps finding me no matter where i go. there’s still a part of me that longs to disappear into it—to wrap myself in the numbness, to retreat into that dark shell i’ve outgrown but never quite left behind. but i know now that denying my humanity only deepens my suffering. this endless attempt to regulate every thought, every impulse—it’s tearing me apart in slow, invisible ways. each obsession is a tiny collapse. i pray for the still moments, the ones where i’m not paying for the chaos inside me. i want to take responsibility, i truly do, but none of this feels like something i chose. i didn’t ask for this. i never would have. nothing so far has brought me the fulfillment i crave. i need to rebuild—to design a life rooted in stability, in truth. but it’s hard when i wake up feeling like a different version of myself every day, like i’m holding court with a rotating cast of souls, each demanding a different truth. i hope therapy can help me unburden all of this. i want more than survival. i want peace. i want joy. i want to be loved in a way that doesn’t feel conditional, and i want to love back without the fear that i’m incapable of giving what i receive. i want to be able to hold my instability in my hands and say: i am not afraid of you anymore. but that courage flickers. depending on my mood, my willingness to change rises and falls like a tide. i remain, at my core, a frightened child—haunted by the same small, inconsequential fears. i don’t know why i want to live, and that unsettles me. i don’t know why i long for connection, and that unsettles me too. i just want to emerge from this with something real, something that belongs wholly to me. i’m tired of being fragmented. i’m tired of being stuck in this cycle of becoming and unraveling. i want to belong to myself. i just don’t know what that truly means.