A Product of Ten Minutes of Thinking: I want to live in a world where... I can pet my dog without checking for tiny black hairs on my fingertips afterwards I can walk around my house without forcing myself to wear shoes so I can shield my feet from the dirty carpet that other people have walked on I can go to a restaurant without worrying that a rouge hair has drifted into my water glass that may not have been washed well enough I can enjoy eating food without thinking about how greasy, messy, crumbly, it is as I lick my lips to make sure no remnants remain I can cry on the hard days without crying about the fact that I’m crying, since tears are a bodily fluid and bodily fluids are gross, no matter how natural I can be in a too-small room with a person who has just sneezed without holding my breath to avoid the possibly bad germs until my face turns purple I can go to an amusement park or a mall or a public bathroom without cringing when I have to touch a door that so many other people have touched I can look out my bedroom window at the night sky without being irrationally scared that the darkness will swallow me whole if I look for too long I can live, feel, walk, risk, enjoy, cry, heal, explore, imagine, without hurting ever again You could say that I’m lucky, because I used to be too afraid to ever pet my dog, walk into dirty rooms in my house, go to a restaurant, eat messy foods, cry, take a deep breath, explore crowded places, or look out of my window at night. But don’t you see? I’ve only learned to exist. Not to live.

A good life, success, healing, beautiful things? ⚠️ Important: please don’t read if this is triggering. No one should think this way about themselves, of course you deserve it all. I struggle with real events and harm OCD. My worst fear is being a bad person, causing harm or doing the wrong thing. These thoughts haunt me all the time and cause me to essentially throw my life away. I don’t go out, pursue opportunities, etc. because what if I don’t deserve them? I think of the worst things I’ve ever done all the time. The things that I’m most ashamed of. Like a broken record that’s all I replay in my head. Doesn’t matter if it was 5 or 10 years ago. And I beat myself up for not doing better. And I just don’t know how to move past it. I’ve read a lot of quotes and books about self help and love and acceptance (e.g. once you know better, do better). But for me I feel like I have to hate myself forever. I won’t ever get a clean slate, there’s a permanent stain on my record. I just can’t forgive myself, whether other people know it or not, I can’t allow myself to move forward. It’s about integrity for me. Does anyone relate? How do you do it? I’m so sorry if you’re also struggling. I don’t wish this for anyone. Please keep fighting, you’re not alone. ❤️

Looking back, I realize I’ve had OCD since I was 7. though I wasn’t diagnosed until I was 30. As a kid, I was consumed by fears I couldn’t explain: "What if God isn’t real? What happens when we die? How do I know I’m real?" These existential thoughts terrified me, and while everyone has them from time to time, I felt like they were consuming my life. By 12, I was having daily panic attacks about death and war, feeling untethered from reality as depersonalization and derealization set in. At 15, I turned to drinking, spending the next 15 years drunk, trying to escape my mind. I hated myself, struggled with my body, and my intrusive thoughts. Sobriety forced me to face it all head-on. In May 2022, I finally learned I had OCD. I remember the exact date: May 10th. Reading about it, I thought, "Oh my God, this is it. This explains everything." My main themes were existential OCD and self-harm intrusive thoughts. The self-harm fears were the hardest: "What if I kill myself? What if I lose control?" These thoughts terrified me because I didn’t want to die. ERP changed everything. At first, I thought, "You want me to confront my worst fears? Are you kidding me?" But ERP is gradual and done at your pace. My therapist taught me to lean into uncertainty instead of fighting it. She’d say, "Maybe you’ll kill yourself—who knows?" At first, it felt scary, but for OCD, it was freeing. Slowly, I realized my thoughts were just thoughts. ERP gave me my life back. I’m working again, I’m sober, and for the first time, I can imagine a future. If you’re scared to try ERP, I get it. But if you’re already living in fear, why not try a set of tools that can give you hope?

My earliest memory of OCD was at five years old. Even short trips away from home made me physically sick with fear. I couldn’t stop thinking, What if something bad happens when I’m not with my mom? In class, I’d get so nervous I’d feel like throwing up. By the time I was ten, my school teacher talked openly about her illnesses, and suddenly I was terrified of cancer and diseases I didn’t even understand. I thought, What if this happens to me? As I got older, my fears shifted, but the cycle stayed the same. I couldn’t stop ruminating about my thoughts: What if I get sick? What if something terrible happens when I’m not home? Then came sexually intrusive thoughts that made me feel ashamed, like something was deeply wrong with me. I would replay scenarios, imagine every “what if,” and subtly ask friends or family for reassurance without ever saying what was really going on. I was drowning in fear and exhaustion. At 13, I was officially diagnosed with OCD. Therapy back then wasn’t what it is now. I only had access to talk therapy and I was able to vent, but I wasn’t given tools. By the time I found out about ERP in 2020, I thought, There’s no way this will work for me. My thoughts are too bad, too different. What if the therapist thinks I’m awful for having them? But my therapist didn’t judge me. She taught me that OCD thoughts aren’t important—they’re just noise. I won’t lie, ERP was terrifying at first. I had to sit with thoughts like, did I ever say or do something in the past that hurt or upset someone? I didn’t want to face my fears, but I knew OCD wasn’t going away on its own. My therapist taught me to sit with uncertainty and let those thoughts pass without reacting. It wasn’t easy—ERP felt like going to the gym for your brain—but slowly, I felt the weight of my thoughts dissipate. Today, I still have intrusive thoughts because OCD isn’t curable—but they don’t control me anymore. ERP wasn’t easy. Facing the fears I’d avoided for years felt impossible at first, but I realized that avoiding them only gave OCD more power. Slowly, I learned to sit with the discomfort and see my thoughts for what they are: just thoughts.