Hello new friends! My name is Graham and I just got diagnosed with OCD in December. I’m 21 years old and a music student at a prestigious conservatory in New York City. This is my OCD story. I have had OCD like symptoms since a very young age, for example, at age 3 I thought I would die if I left the house without a bottle of water, and refused to do so for almost 7 years, and I had countless sensory issues with food and clothing. However, around age 12, the thoughts began to become increasingly horrible. Violent intrusive images, urges to yell obscenities at people, overall intense fear of hurting other people emotionally or physically occupied my brain for hours a day. Additionally, I began to have intense contamination fears - obsessive hand washing, (although not nearly as bad as many people’s) having to carry hand sanitizer everywhere I went, and even worse, as I began to grow body hair, that was as “unclean” as it could get to me. I *had* to rid my body of it. These thoughts then began to plague my performances as well - I would obsessively worry about a certain thing, and it would ruin the whole experience for me, no matter how well I pulled through. As I also was trying to come to terms with my sexuality, (I’m gay) my brain produced tons of sexual intrusive images of both men and women, leaving me lost and confused as to what I actually was. I did not dare search what my thoughts meant. I thought for sure doing so would lead me to be put on a FBI watch list, inform me I was clinically insane, or something along those lines. One day in late October, I was on my commute home from school. This commute is an hour each way on crowded public transportation - between contamination and harm OCD, you can imagine how this experience goes for me every day. For 30 minutes, my brain thought of everything horrible I could do to the person next to me. Strangle them, stab them, rape them, call them racial slurs, rip their hair out. It was so overwhelming that by the time they walked off the train I thought I was going to faint from the panic I felt. I decided enough was enough and googled what I was feeling, which lead me to discover this subset of pure O OCD, which I knew nothing about. A friend of mine was diagnosed when we were 15, and I assumed it just meant obsessive without compulsive, and didn’t look into it whatsoever. I began to see a counselor at my school, and he sent me to the psychiatrist through the school who diagnosed me with OCD. Almost immediately after my diagnosis, my grandfather fell ill. I couldn’t bear to tell my parents while we were dealing with that. He ended up passing away a little less than a month later. This has been so beyond hard on my entire family. It’s been a little over a month now, and as more things have gone wrong for my mom - her company being hacked, getting in a car wreck (she’s totally fine other than whiplash) - I haven’t been able to bring myself to discuss with them. I feel as though I will be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. But I know I need to tell them. Hopefully it will happen as soon as possible...but it’s plaguing my mind a lot. If anyone can offer words of advice on what to do, I would appreciate it greatly. Thanks for reading. That’s my story. I hope to meet more wonderful humans who understand what I go through - have a wonderful day all! :)

Hey everyone! I’m new here and thought that it might help to get my OCD story off my chest. My intrusive thoughts are so bad that I never want to talk about them to anyone so maybe that’s why I’m here. When I was 13 my grandma was in the hospital. She was my best friend in the whole world. I imagined so much life with her. I remember pulling into the hospital one day with my Dad and immediately knocking on “wood” (the car door) to help put me at ease about my grandmas health before going in. I knocked on wood because everyone knows that’s what you do when you don’t want something to happen. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her so bad that all I could think about in that moment was something bad happening. So I knocked on wood. It made me feel better so I kept doing it whenever I had bad thoughts. But then it going confusing. If this was helping ease these thoughts, why was I starting to have these thoughts more frequently? 13 year old me didn’t understand what I was doing or why these bad thoughts started. It had got so bad that I was knocking on wood every second of the day, every surface I came across that felt right, and if I didn’t I would force myself to turn around and touch that surface. I would have to knock on wood 8 times every single time but the 7 would have two knocks because the word 7 have two syllables. But then the 8 times wouldn’t be enough, I still wouldn’t feel satisfied so I would do it again and again and again until my entire day was overpowered by intrusive thoughts or knocking on wood. My family and friends started to notice, asking why I do it. I would always avoid the question or make a joke out of it because I couldn’t tell them these terrible thoughts I was having. I was so deeply afraid of something bad happening to the people I love the most or myself that it was debilitating. A couple years later I noticed how bad it had gotten and wanted a change. So I forced myself to stop knocking. I would tell myself angrily that nothing bad would happen if I don’t knock. It took me a lot of convincing and small steps to realize this, but it worked. I got better. I went to the doctors office at about 15 and told them everything. How I did this but how I solved this. They told me it takes great mental strength to be able to fight something in your brain like that. I have always been so mentally strong but hearing them say that made me feel so much better. And I was better. For years. Yea I went through times when it was bad again but it was so much better. The past couple years it has gotten worse again. I noticed that it gets worse when my anxiety about things is higher. New changes, new people, new things. Now, at 21 I won’t let myself get back to the point I was when I was 13, but recently I can’t seem to keep the intrusive thoughts out. I am so terrified of myself or someone else getting hurt of getting older that I put the whole toll on myself. I am so so so happy with my life right now that I don’t want anything to change. That is why it’s been so bad recently. Life is amazing which is why I only want it to get better and I’m so scared something might get in the way of that. I realized after talking to my friends that I never want to say my intrusive thoughts out-loud because I believe strongly in speaking things into existence so I only speak good things out loud. That’s how I’ve always been. But when I talked with my friend she said she’s the opposite, she says the bad things out loud because then you jinx them and they won’t happen. Her saying that gave me a little peace because it made me realize that it’s okay to get these things off my chest and that saying these things out loud isn’t so serious, it’s not life or death like I thought it was. Honestly, the weight of getting my story off my chest has already helped me feel a little lighter of a load on myself.

Hello 👋 I'm new here and wanted to share my story. I'm 27 and struggle daily with OCD. I've had it for many years and got diagnosed 3 years ago. I have intrusive thoughts daily and constantly washing my hands because I feel contaminated. My hands are so sore they crack and bleed. When I get my food shop delivery I have to clean the kitchen floor where items have been and for days after I wash my hands after touching the food items because they are dirty to me. I wear PJ'S when I'm on my sofa but I have to change into different PJ'S when I get in bed, I cannot wear the same ones because I feel the sofa has germs on that I can't put in my bed. I clean my phone everyday when I get home from work because of the work germs. It's very rare if I use the toilets at work because of other colleagues using them. I get behind on jobs at work because I have to re read things a lot. I struggle very much leaving the house by myself. My last job I had to leave due to constantly being late because I had to check all the windows, doors, switches, cooker, ect. Luckily now my husband is at home when I leave for work. But times where I've had to leave by myself I've had panic attacks and cannot stop crying because I cannot leave the house. I think something bad will happen. I freeze at the door, I know I've locked it but the OCD bully in my head is saying I need to keep checking it until it feels right. And a lot of the time it never feels right. I have accidentally broken door/window handles because of checking them so many times. A few years ago I struggled that much to leave the house I had to film myself locking the door and I also wrote on paper "locked" "off" ect. Take a photo/video and send it to my husband who then stopped work to look and reply. A lot of the time it didn't help at all. At night I have to check everything is switched off and locked up, that can take a long time and a lot I ask my husband to do the checks either with me or by himself. This is so difficult. I have been having therapy for about 3 months, it's helped a little so that's something. Some days are ok and other days are horrible. I know I'm not alone but it does feel like that a lot. Thank you for reading :)

Hello. This is my first post and it’s going to be a confession of sorts… I was recently diagnosed with OCD and it has been really clarifying, scary, and confusing to navigate alone. I am also going through a lot of changes in my personal life. I recently graduated college and I am currently healing from a very difficult break up with my partner of 4 years. I don’t handle uncertainty or change very well so this period of my life has been super stressful and uncomfortable. My recent diagnosis and break up have taught me a lot about myself. I first realized I might have OCD because my mental health and— what I now know to be compulsions— became so destructive to my physical and emotional wellbeing that I actually began googling questions about repetitive self mutilation. The first result was something about the link between OCD and self harm. There were some examples of what compulsive self mutilation can look like, and it strongly resembled the things I have struggled with my entire life. For me, self mutilation is the compulsion I struggle with most. At times it has been incredibly debilitating. From there, I became obsessed with reading into OCD (I find this pretty ironic and funny). The more I research about it the more it resembles the things I have struggled with for as long as I can remember. I realized that the overwhelming guilt, shame, and anxiety I feel constantly are not the consequences of being a bad person, but rather the symptoms of OCD. It feels super validating to learn that the inner turmoil I’ve struggled with my entire life is something other people experience and is actually treatable. I started working with a psychiatrist who specializes in OCD and ended up getting formally diagnosed with moderate to severe OCD. Since learning this, I am beginning to understand myself in an entirely new light. It has in no way been easy. I hit rock bottom and— just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse — I hit an even lower rock bottom. I’m not saying this out of self pity or to try to fish for sympathy, I’m just hoping that I can make someone struggling with a recent diagnosis feel less alone. I have felt very alone in this journey even as I learn that many people struggle with similar things. I still have a lot of learning and growing to do, but I am actively seeking treatment and I’m doing what I can to manage my OCD. I’m really grateful for this platform and I am relieved to know that things can actually get better. I think the next step for me is to start ERP therapy, but right now that sounds really scary and exhausting. Even so, I’m quickly warming up to this form of treatment as I research about its effectiveness. Everyday I discover more ways my life has been impacted by OCD. It’s very painful to realize that the overwhelming shame I feel about my obsessions and compulsions has actually been the reason I’ve lived the first 23 years of my life undiagnosed. My diagnosis has also shed new light on my past relationship and has helped me sort through some of my emotions in this healing process. … To anybody who actually read this whole thing: thank you. If nobody read it then at least I got this off my chest. I would really appreciate any advice on navigating a recent diagnosis and seeking treatment.