I guess I just wanted to share my experience and get it all out. So since I was little I was always kind of weird. When I was born the birth was very traumatic and I had brain issues (I was born closer to 10 months in the womb than 9 months) which resulted in epilepsy. I was supposed to be slow in school and behind others but to many people's surprise, I was gifted. I was really smart and could name all the bones in the body before I was in elementary school. I guess there were a few quirks I had, like I hated how certain clothes felt on my body or if my ponytail wasn't perfect I had to redo it. I'd line up my toys by color or something else, and if my sister knocked them over I'd be really upset. I got a little older and I remember developing hypochondria at some point. I always thought there was impending doom and something was bound to go wrong with my body at some point. I broke down in school multiple times thinking I was having heart attacks. I also remember being afraid to go to sleep because I thought I might die or hurt someone in my sleep or someone would hurt me. I specifically remember one time where my grandma was watching ID channel, and it was a show about killer kids. I watched it, too, but I was too young to have seen it and she should've turned it off. For the next few days or weeks, I don't even remember how long, I was terrified I'd be like those kids in the show. I told her to keep knives away from me and I was scared of myself. I refused to wear red because I thought it looked like blood and it would make me homicidal. I wouldn't even write with a red pen. My grandma would always say, "Stop dwelling." But I couldn't and it only got worse. In middle school, in seventh grade, I was thinking of ending things but I remember lying in bed and saying, "Well I've never done anything horrible so I don't deserve death." And my brain convinced me I'd molested my brother because of a humorous memory from years before. So I sat waiting for myself to do it in the bathroom for a while before crying on the floor and going back to bed. In eighth grade I had the worst POCD, and during freshman year. It was constant and embarrassing. I got a boyfriend, who I love very much, and now we get to October of 2020. I was watching a TV show with an interracial couple and I just... broke or something. My boyfriend and I are an interracial couple and somehow my mind convinced me I'm racist against him and I was shaking and crying on phone calls with him, telling him to break up with me. He refused to feed into it and knew immediately I was being crazy. This lasted for a few days. Then I told my mom. I confessed to her that I was prejudiced. I was terrified of being racist. She tried to help me feel better but I couldn't. Then within the next few days, my concern changed to POCD. She literally yelled at me, asking me if I knew how crazy I sound, insisting I'm a child predator when she and I both know I'm not. It was horrible. She told me to try and distract myself when I get bad thoughts so this spiral doesn't go any deeper, because she'd already set up a doctor's appointment for me and we'd figure out other things to do then. I tried but it only got worse. It turned into sexual assault OCD. I was constantly asking my boyfriend if I've ever done such a thing to him. Every single time he said no. But I couldn't stop. I was scared. Then, the worst of the worst... my OCD convinced me I've tried to kill people. Of course this was too much for a 15 year old girl to try and make sense of on her own, so I asked my mom what she thought about my concerns. She told me that the incident I had OCD about isn't worth worrying about, because I'm focused on what I thought at a short moment in time when nothing bad ever happened. I can't keep trying to remember what I was thinking because I'll never know. That was a month ago. Now it's mostly racism OCD, assault, and POCD. Some days are okay, others are horrible. I've tried to stop confessing, which gets easier as time goes on. I try to say to myself, "I guess we'll never know," if my mind is trying to dig into the past. But I'm still terrified most days. It feels like I'll never feel okay about myself.