Today I did a speech about the misconceptions around OCD. And it was going okay I guess. I was shaking a lot because it was scary, but that was only inevitable. Then when it came to answering questions, it all went downhill. I was asked by my teacher what link I had to the disorder so I straight up said it. I said I have OCD, to a class of 30 and to him. And I regret that with all my heart. For the past year, OCD has been ME. It has torn me and shaped me and ruined me and hurt me and made me. So when I said it, and didn’t get the reaction I guess I hoped for... it broke me. Nobody cared. Nobody cares that I had struggled. That I’d cried. That I’d felt so alone. I wonder if I’ll ever be understood by anybody. I fear I looked like an attention seeker for saying it. Or a liar. Or someone trying to gain pity. I don’t know what to think or do. I care so so so much about what they think of me. And nobody even cared. I guess I’m just feeling sorry for myself. Which is so dumb. But I don’t know what else to do. I poured my heart into my words and now I don’t have any left. I’m crying, because I just feel so silly and sad. I wish I could go back in time and not do it. Because now I’m just left feeling so anxious about what I looked like, and so sad about how nobody cared.

Hi. I am going through something really hard right now, and I could use some insight, especially from others who deal with OCD and morality-based spirals. There was a time during a really emotional conversation with my boyfriend when he said something incredibly painful. He said something like he only felt lust for me but did not feel love anymore. I was completely crushed. It felt like everything I believed about our relationship was ripped out from under me. In that moment, I told him that what he said felt like rape. I want to be really clear. I knew even then that it was not a good or accurate comparison. It was not assault. I was trying to express how emotionally violated and broken I felt, and that word came out. I even labeled it directly, not just compared it, and that is what has been haunting me. I feel like I kept going along with it, not because I wanted to lie or manipulate, but because I felt like if I backed down from it, he would not understand the depth of how hurt I was. He didn’t seem to understand any other way. Later, when we tried to be intimate again, I told him not to touch me. And even though a part of me did want closeness, I still felt like I had to react that way, like I had to follow through with what I had said earlier. I wanted so bad for him to understand the impact of his words. That part is killing me. It makes me feel like I was not being authentic, that I was performing a reaction instead of living it. I feel like I acted like a survivor when I was not one, and I hate myself for that. Now, OCD is eating me alive over it. It keeps telling me I am a liar, a manipulator, and someone who cannot be trusted. And it feels so real. But I also know I was hurting. I was not trying to deceive anyone. I was just overwhelmed, desperate to be understood, and probably influenced by years of invalidation from my family over almost everything. I have talked to my boyfriend about it and apologized. He told me he understands and forgives me. But I cannot forgive myself, and I do not know if what I did is forgivable. Has anyone ever been in a similar place? I feel so so awful this was 3 years ago. Now I feel like I can’t trust any of my emotions. I’m analyzing every reaction, past and present, trying to decide if it was “real enough” or if I was somehow dishonest. It feels like OCD has completely hijacked my sense of self. Please help :(

I've opened up recently to my boyfriend about my ocd itself: he knew I had it, just didnt rlly understanded it. Today, I was feeling really awful because of my incest ocd, and the toughts were awful, so I decided to open up. BAD IDEA! he said it was ok and stuff but he also said he did not understand: he is, fairly, disgusted. Plus, he knowns my relatives, which probably made him even more sick. Im so sad, he is now more disgusted by me, and I am too.

If you are anything like me (and most of you are, because let’s face it, we are all on this chat), you have OCD. Real OCD, not the organisation, matching colours everyone thinks it is. Real OCD. I’ve always known I was different, known that my brain does some waking things and deep down, I’ve always known I’ve had OCD. But there is just something that changes when you finally get the diagnosis. It makes more sense, you have an explanation for your behaviours. So naturally I told my friends. When they ask why I had to stop and step four times on a tile I said ‘oh, I have OCD’. I finally had a word, a tangible concept that I could explain to people. But nobody warned me about the massive misconceptions about OCD. Instead of support or acceptance, my friends seemed to question the diagnosis saying ‘that’s not ocd, don’t you just like things organised?’. And no matter how much I explain it they don’t seem to get it. And that’s the part that feels so cruel. I go through hell in my head and it can all be reduced to a phrase of ‘oh, aren’t you organised’. So please be careful out there you guys, and if someone try’s to downplay your experience, know that you are valid and that what you are going through is probably something that they could never handle. It’s a lesson that took me time to learn, but it’s important because our experience matters. Our real experience.