The more I come here, the more I realize that ocd is a scary, weird, f*ed up illness, so I don’t get how organized people claim to have ocd or think it’s a cute or funny quirk. If they only knew how miserable life can be sometimes when you have to deal with an inner voice who’s constantly trying to ruin everything, and constantly making you feel scared to even wake up in the morning or go to sleep at night..

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.

This is going to sound crazy but I guess I am. For over a year now I’ve suffered from ocd. And I always thought ocd was just I turned the door the wrong way but it’s so much more. I feel as if I’ll never get better. I’m in a relationship, for 8 months now with the most encouraging and supportive boyfriend ever. I tell him all of my thoughts and he understands and accepts because he understands it’s not thoughts I mean to have. I feel so awful being the way I am and being with him. I feel like I can’t be happy because it’s always something going on with me. He has a bigger family all boys, and everyone I hangout with my boyfriend and his brothers I get uncomfortable and weird and convince myself I have feelings for them or I want them. It makes me so disgusted and physically ill every time. The thoughts never go away and it’s not even about them it’s tons of things. I cry constantly because I can’t get the thoughts to go away. I can’t hang out with anybody out of fear I’ll have a thought I don’t want. I feel like I’m so alone. A year ago I felt the same way about my dad which I know is absolutely disgusting and I would never have feelings for my own family and dad, bit thoughts pop into my head. I don’t know if it’s because my brain wants a reason and answer as to why I think those things so I tell myself I like them, but I can’t shake it. I’m trying medicines and hopefully getting into therapy soon. I just don’t know if it ever is going to get better. Some days are better than others and every time I have a bad thought I get heat flashes and and my stomach hurts and I get anxiety and I just want it all to go away. I hate it so much and I feel as if I’ll never be normal again and never be able to live my life freely. I have to constantly worry about what my brain might come up with. These are not thoughts I want to have but somehow my brain has them and I feel so disgusted and I need help so badly. I never know what to do and i feel like an awful human being. I convince myself these things are try when I know they aren’t deep down. I’m losing my charachter and I’m losing myself and the person I know I am which would never have thoughts like these. I want it all to go away. Please tell me it gets better. I don’t recognize myself anymore.

I honestly don’t know how I’ve made it this far in my life. OCD has had its claws in me since I was 7. I used to lay in bed and tell myself over and over “it’ll be gone when I’m older, it’ll be better” but it just got worse with age. I’m 25 now and I’ve lost so many years to this. Or to pretending to be someone else in order to avoid it all. I can’t say or do one thing without analyzing it to death. Everything is black and white when it comes to me and my own morality. I overcompensate by allowing everyone else around me to be gray. I don’t allow myself that same grace. I try, everyday. Sometimes I sit and look back on my life and just wonder why. And how. I carry every mistake I’ve made with me from day to day. It rules me, it owns me, and it chips away at the person I could have been without ocd. I mourn myself.