My Experience

this is the most i will ever go into depth about my mental health, all in one post; all in one sitting. this will be draining. to start this off, yes, i have OCD—but i also have several other disorders as well. some of my diagnoses that will come to light in this have a strong correlation to comorbidity and so instead of this being a story simply about my OCD, i will cover all areas of my mental health. for readers, i want it to be clear; this is for me. i’m doing this to put my story out. i hope you find some interest in what i have to say, but in the end, my intentions are strictly to make my damage good. symptoms of my mental issues were present frequently in my childhood experience. for years i avoided any truth to how i thought or felt. thinking, feeling, acting—all 3 were never in cohesion. i had a very anti-social attitude towards life for most of my pubescent years. i got use to faking and manipulating to appear a certain way when i knew i was at risk of punishment; it allowed me to get away with a lot of immoral behaviors for a long time before i eventually was forced into counseling from a school fight i had initiated. i was roughly 14 at this time. counseling was my initial therapy for a while. i have since seen 5 therapists. i can’t say any of those therapists knew a single truth about me, really—with a mixture of pathological lying and a bad masking habit, I was stopping myself from getting any real treatment. i don’t know why, but for a long time i was content with this truth. a part of me never really felt the need to address it. my manipulative behaviors were often unintentional and not once had i sought a need to be callous, even when doing the things i was doing. with every new therapist, i had tuned my personality specifically to fit them—a concept that i don’t have a name for but now can dissect in immense detail. i would take parts of my personality and accentuate them to fit the attitudes and interests of particular people. in my head it was always about admiring the story. nobody was real; everyone was a character, everyone was a unique, self-manifested character. i just made my character with greater intents. i was a good listener, i think understanding that made me get more comfortable with my destructive and manipulative tendencies. when someone believes your listening, like really, actively listening—they’ll eventually tell you everything about themselves. now for a slight addressing of the obvious, i want it to be clear, i’m not describing ASPD—aka, the real life equivalence of sociopathy. i do think i show strong signs of it early on in my youth, and i bring these behaviors up because i think the issues that i do have developed from my anti-social behaviors—however, i was a child; i didn’t know the consequences of my behavior like i do now. if anything is needed to be said here, it’s best to address the following events like this: i understand now, i didn’t understand then. turning 15, i had started off 2023 in a relationship that meant a lot to me—a lot more to me than anything in my life leading up to this point. it’s best to address this now as well—i don’t feel a lot, but when i do, it’s usually irrationally intense and feels completely uncontrollable. at this time, i had gotten over a lot of my anti-social tendencies by now and have spent the last year improving myself after the things i had done began hurting the people i valued most. from a long list of lying, manipulating, preying, harassing, even stabbing people with whatever sharp thing was at my disposal—i had come a long way in creating a character that i actually liked. an important thing to keep in mind during this time was the early development of my OCD that had initially come in the form of suicidal ideation. most of the people in here i’m assuming are people that personally have OCD and understand that it’s not a disorder based in the stigmatized-lens of perfectionism but rather an irrational need for certainty. death quickly became my “ultimate form of certainty” in my teenage years as i turned to the concept like a comfort place—a hand on my shoulder saying “it’s okay, you can fuck up however you might, there’s always a way out.” i had not been truthful about that in therapy either, nor did the several medications prescribed in my lifetime ever do something of benefit to what my issues actually were. of course, i blame no one but myself for not benefiting from outside sources. skipping over a lot of meaningless detail—the gist of the year went like this: Jan-April relationship breaks up badly—in my irrational state, i attempted to take my life and was hospitalized, and eventually, institutionalized. i stayed there for 11 days. at the time the only diagnoses they could make of me was MDD and ASD with slight signs of generalized anxiety. May-August i get extremely medicated and start taking 150+ pills a month to maintain what at the time was being treated for bipolar and schizophrenia. i was too young to see my clinical record, and i assume they wouldn’t tell this to a minor, but it seems they believed whatever my issues really were—i was simply too young to get an accurate assessment. September-December the medication makes me completely apathetic and my loss of care for life brought back my irrational gimmicks and self-destructive tendencies. i, in a 4 month period, ruined every single relationship i had kept close to me. 2024. i was alone. i stopped taking my pills due to a loss of interest and excessive weight gaining but it made my intense emotions start to bite me again. this was the year my OCD had fully developed and by April, i was diagnosed after failing a risk-assessment. for a long period of time, i lived a meaningless, uneventful, isolated life. that year, i let my mental health take over all acts of my being. i got deep into philosophy, psychology, pathology, a lot of tv shows built around psychological dynamics—i was desperate to understand this parasite that seemed to destroy my life without any awareness. i never wanted it to take the years it did since i was initially that 13 year old boy, but i write this now with a simple truth—a truth i refused to let myself believe until recently. i can’t fix this. the more i feed into it, obsess over it—the more these issues are going to worsen. for years i wasted my days thinking i was trying everything i could and it just wasn’t working. i couldn’t accept the fact that i don’t control this, and despite being told that again and again—it never got through to me until i spent the last week not feeding into the OCD and emotional dysregulation, and for the first time, i didn’t find myself counting the seconds that passed me by. it might not mean that much for an outsider looking in, but since my OCD had fully developed—i would always be counting the seconds in the back of my head, not like 1231, 1232, 1233… but as a tick of a metronome that made me always aware of the time. the days where this wasn’t annoying, it was boring, which i ultimately hated more. i’m seeing a light i haven’t seen in years, and with it i keep reaching the same notion—i wish i didn’t waste so much of my life being miserable. i’m getting a psychological evaluation within the next month. i’ve been out of therapy for about a year now but i’m going in now looking to help myself. this is specifically for my emotional dysregulation. my current theories revolve around cluster B personality types, 1 of 4 including ASPD as i had mentioned earlier, albeit my bet is actually on BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder.) I crossed off Borderline for a long time because the symptoms list always felt too broad, but the more i understand the disorder—the more i feel connected to it. my theory comes from several factors—my rapidly changing self image, my impulsive/erratic behaviors, my irrational emotions, my long history of unconventional relationships, my fear of abandonment, my chronic emptiness, my history of self harm, etc. this is not confirmed however, and i wish to get an evaluation specifically for the disorder. getting a personality disorder diagnosed in a minor isn’t easy, but i’m doing it half for the certainty of just knowing—and half for potentionally getting a medication that can help me live a healthy-adjacent life. i never thought i would see a life free of obsession since being diagnosed with OCD. now i can enjoy the silence. thanks for reading. any commentary appreciated.

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.

I've started struggled with debilitating anxiety for so long it's hard to pinpoint where it stared. I've racked up a laundry list of diagnoses but always felt like nothing has really helped treatmentwise. In my recent spiral I was watching a YouTuber I've followed for years who has been very open about their experience with OCD. In the beginning of watching this person. While I had related to some things they said like specifically about anxiety, nothing ever made me think 'oh maybe I have OCD.' in fact in a way it reassur d me I didn't because my struggles seemed very different to theirs. Then they spoke about 'bad thoughts'' and the compulsion to turn them into 'good thoughts.' when they said that I felt so seen, and figured maybe I have some OCD tendencies. So I decided I would do some research into OCD and getting diagnostic criteria/ common obsessions and compulsions, and the second one on the first list was "worried about getting HIV and transmitting it to others" and it was like a switch went of in my brain and I remembered how I spent 2 years convinced a low risk sexual encounter in which protection was used definitely have me HIV, and how I constantly was looking up information about HIV, tests, prevention, clinical presentations. I got multiple STD tests and even when I started to logically understand it wasn't a real risk for me, I couldn't break the anxious cycle. The only thing that stopped I was after the time period passed where infections are detectable (2 years). And then I started putting everything in that context, months on end I spent unbelievably anxious about climate change and obsessively searching up statistics, the multiple times and admittedly stressful event occurs (job insecurity, visa applications, COVID forcing me and my partner into long distance) that would be so all consuming that every other aspect of my life feels on back burner to this one thought. How no logic, no explanation, no amount of time telling myself it is okay, it will be okay and that the outcomes of my stressors do have options/ ways forward, would stop the anxious spiral. I'm also thinking about how often, when I shared my anxiety, it was met with such response as "everyone is anxious about some things" or "well that is a stressful event so some anxiety is normal." I know that no one meant anything bad but this, but it also contributed to the shame and doubt to a degree, I didn't know how to explain how I felt, that is wasn't just anxious thoughts every so often, that is was a constant barrage from the moment I'm awake to the point I exhausted myself enough to sleep. Sharing this felt especially hard considering that it wasn't logical to feel how I was feeling. I don't know what I want to achieve with this post but the more i heard about people's specific experiences and personal obsessions and compulsions helped me to recognise those patterns in my own life so maybe just talking about it is helpful