Title: first pOCD story + false memories [Trigger warnings] pOCD, false memories, self-harm [Introduction] this is the earliest story I remember I have dealt with pocd - I don't remember how it all started. It causes me panic, sleepless nights, suicidal ideation and motive to cut myself. [basic information] female, 20s, I identify as demisexual panromantic (you can think of myself as bi), in therapy with a non-ocd specialist but diagnosed with it by 2 different psicologists since November 2019 (though I haven't had therapy since February due to the virus), I suffer from pOCD since early-mid 2017. My OCD exploded into major proportions in July 2019 - - - × - - - Like I've mentioned before, this is one of the first events (or the very first) that made me wonder if I was a "p". Summer 2017, I went to a friend's house and I met her younger sister (8, at the time). She was very sweet, pretty, adorable and I liked her so much! She showed me her toys and she was always around me... But in that moment, I feared I felt some sort of romantic attraction to her... Sometimes I get on the verge of tears because it was so strong... - this felt like attraction. As I'm recalling the day, I'm remembering the warm feeling I experienced (like I was developing a crush). I spent the whole day panicking internally, wondering If I was "p" and if I was attracted to her - I tried to dismiss the thoughts believing my head was trying to fool me so I still enjoyed the day and tried to fight those thoughts by engaging with her and playing with her, despite the fear I felt. I've always wanted a little sister and one day (at that time), I wanted to have a daughter someday. Later that day, we went to the pool and I played with her again and even gave her piggyback rides and grabbed her and thrown her into the water (like I used to do with my brother). This where my false memories begin. (due to my OCD and constant worrying, my brain became fried and the wrong portions of the memory are broken and make me wonder what I did) December 2019, I put the idea on my head that I have "hurt" a child on the past. And this is the only story I have where I interacted with a child. While I gave her the piggyback ride, I don't remember where I placed my hands: under her legs (the right way) or under her butt. For this reason, I am absolutely terrified that I placed my hands on her butt with evil intentions. Part of me believes this "memory" is false because I have never done anything inappropriate (that I remember); my piggyback rides are always the right way (but I I also vaguely remember pondering that I obviously had to hold her correctly); for the longest time I had a "clear" conscious (which means that I thought I didn't do anything wrong except wondering if I was attracted to her); I don't remember having evil intentions. But my mind... It doubts everything... It's tiring. I don't think I felt arousal or any groinal response. But I can't be sure. My memories of that day are very blurred. I've shared this story with my therapist and she told me that the reason for this fear is because I was mentally sexually abused by a family member and I'm terrified of doing to others what people have done to me. (and I always hated being touched in the butt) plus, according to her, due to the lack of affection on my childhood, I can't tell the difference between affection and attraction. I remember enjoying her company and wanting to spend more time around her... But I'm so scared that I had bad intentions, because "p" people want to be around children. I feel like there was more than "having a child/sister for a day" because of my strong feelings for this girl. At the end of the day, I remember feeling guilty for fighting those thoughts… because I was afraid that I did something inappropriate that I didn't notice. I regretted this whole day. When I went back to her house, I avoided the child at all costs. I also would like to add that, thinking back about this event, I felt so disgusting and so evil… To be honest, I've always felt that way. Whenever I am insert in friendly social interactions, I feel like a monster, like I don't belong there. And that day was no exception but these these "evil" feelings were a lot bigger because of my thoughts and I honestly felt like a "p". Does it make sense? I felt so disgusting because I felt like one. I felt like a pervert… I felt dirty. This distress of thinking that my actions or conversations might have been inappropriate led me to crying, cutting myself and suicidal ideation.