Is OCD Curable? It is commonly accepted that OCD is a chronic condition for which there is no cure. This idea is frequently used as an excuse for incomplete treatment, especially of compulsive rumination. Many patients who have completed ERP no longer do any physical compulsions but still ruminate. These patients are often told that the reason they’re not completely better is that OCD is a chronic condition, when the real reason is that no one has taught them how to completely stop ruminating. So, am I saying OCD is curable? Let’s answer that question with another question: Would you say someone who engages in absolutely no compulsion or avoidance has OCD? I would say they don’t. I would say that OCD consists of compulsion and avoidance, and that therefore, by definition, no compulsion or avoidance means no OCD. The counterargument I would expect is that this person would still have intrusive thoughts. But this argument falls apart when you break down ‘intrusive thoughts’ into (1) uncomfortable thoughts that occur to you, and (2) any engagement whatsoever with these thoughts — i.e., compulsive rumination. While an uncomfortable thought occurring to you isn’t controllable, this is also not a symptom of OCD; it’s a symptom of being human. And any engagement whatsoever with the thought is controllable and is a compulsion — and we said this person doesn’t do any compulsions. So would you say that someone who engages in absolutely no compulsion or avoidance — who sometimes has uncomfortable thoughts like all other humans, but doesn’t engage with them at all — has OCD? I would say they don’t, or at least they don’t right now. Thus, drawing a clear distinction between a thought occurring to you, and any engagement whatsoever with that thought, leads to the conclusion that a person can completely eliminate their OCD. So does this mean OCD is curable? Well, it’s definitely much more curable than people think it is. But if the word ‘cure’ means that something is permanently better, I wouldn’t say OCD is curable, because OCD will only remain better as long as compulsion and avoidance are completely eliminated. Consider the imperfect analogy of someone who gets their cholesterol under control by changing their diet.* Have they been cured? Only as long as they maintain the changes that made them better. While it might sound daunting, eliminating compulsion and avoidance does not entail an ongoing struggle. In fact, once a person sees that they have complete control over these behaviors, staying away from them becomes easy. This is why, in my mind, the goal of treatment is not only to eliminate current symptoms, but to help the patient see that they are completely in control of their behavior, including their mental behavior. That way even if they do fall back into compulsion or avoidance in the future, they know they have the ability to get back on track immediately. So I’m not sure whether I can say that OCD is ‘curable,’ but I know that it is possible to get completely better, to the degree that OCD is no longer a part of your life or even something you think about. And this is the standard that I think every patient and therapist should strive for. * The difference is that the dietary changes cause a change in the cholesterol, while the elimination of compulsion and avoidance are themselves the elimination of OCD.

I get asked about the name NOCD a lot. People might want to know how it’s pronounced, and they’re curious about our story. Every time, I’m excited to share a bit about what the name means—in fact, it’s an opportunity for me to talk about something everyone should know about OCD. First things first: it’s pronounced “No-CD.” And it actually means a couple things, both central to our mission: To restore hope for people with OCD through better awareness and treatment. The first meaning of our name is about awareness: Know OCD. Though we’ve come a long way, not enough people truly know what OCD is or what it’s like. How many times have you heard someone say “Don’t be so OCD about that,” or “I wish I had a little OCD. My car is a mess!” Things like that may seem innocent, but they trivialize the condition and keep most people with OCD—around 8 million in the US alone—from getting the help they need. The second meaning of NOCD is about treatment: No-CD. To go a bit deeper: Say “No” to the compulsive disorder. On one level, this is also related to knowing OCD—noto means “to know” in Latin. This inspired the name NOTO, the operations and technology infrastructure that powers NOCD the way an engine powers a vehicle. But this meaning goes even further. It has to do with how you can manage OCD symptoms—learning to resist compulsions. This is the foundation of exposure and response prevention (ERP) therapy, the most effective, evidence-based form of treatment for OCD. Learning how to resist compulsions with ERP changed my life, and it taught me how important it is to get treatment from a specialty-trained therapist who truly understands how OCD works. I’ll give you an example. When I was 20, my life was going according to plan. I was thriving on the field as a college quarterback, doing well in school, even winning awards—until OCD struck out of nowhere. I started having taboo intrusive thoughts, things that horrified me and went against my core values and beliefs. Desperate for help, I saw several different therapists—but no one diagnosed me with OCD. At one point, I was instructed to snap a rubber band against my wrist whenever I had an intrusive thought. It was supposed to stop the thoughts, but it only made my symptoms worse. Driven into severe depression, I had to put my entire life on pause. Once I started ERP with a therapist who understood OCD, I learned why: you can’t stop intrusive thoughts from occurring. Everyone has them—and the more you try to get rid of them, the worse they get. Anything you do to suppress them is actually a compulsion, whether it’s counting in your head, snapping a rubber band against your wrist, or using substances to drown the thoughts out. To get better, you have to learn to resist compulsions and accept uncertainty. OCD doesn’t get to decide how you live your life. How do you educate the people in your life about OCD? Whether friends, family, or strangers, I’d love to hear how you share your understanding and raise awareness about OCD.

I want to beat OCD because I have seen and felt the benefits of clearing my brain from unnecessary, pointless, thoughts. OCD is like 0 calorie food. It’s pointless. No nutrition or benefits come from my obsessions or compulsions. I don’t care to have answers to everything anymore. I catch myself just trying to stress myself out so that I have some worry to feed on. But like I said, it’s a 0 calorie food. I get nothing from it but wasted time and energy. My brain feels more spacious when I’m not consumed by OCD. I’m present. My personality has room to be herself without making space for bullshit. I tell myself now that worry is poison. I think Willie Nelson was the person I got that quote from? Anyways, that imagery of worries being poison for the mind has been transformative for me. I’m evolving. 💖 Thanks NOCD community.

December 14, 2024, marked two years since my first ERP therapy session with my NOCD therapist, Mixi. And October 2024 marked a year of being free from OCD. It was not an easy journey, confronting my fears face to face. Exposing myself to the images and thoughts my brain kept throwing at me, accepting that I might be the worst mother, that my daughter wouldn’t love me, and that I deserved to be considered a bad person. It was challenging having to say, “Yes, I am those things,” feeling the desire to run, but realizing the thoughts followed me. At the start of my therapy, I remember feeling like I couldn’t do this anymore. Life felt unbearable, and I felt so weak. I longed for a time before the OCD, before the flare-ups, before the anxiety, the daily panic attacks. I thought I’d never be myself again. But I now know that ERP saved my life. The first couple of sessions were tough. I wasn’t fully present. I lied to my therapist about what my actual thoughts were, fearing judgment. I pretended that the exposures were working, but when the sessions ended, I went back to not sleeping, constantly overwhelmed by fear and anxiety. But my therapist never judged me. She made me feel safe to be honest with her. She understood OCD and never faltered in supporting me, even when I admitted I had been lying and still continued my compulsions. My biggest milestone in therapy was being 100% transparent with my therapist. That was when real change began. At first, I started small—simply reading the words that terrified me: "bad mom," "hated," "unloved." Then, I worked on listening to those words while doing dishes—not completely stopping my rumination, but noticing it. Just 15 minutes, my therapist said. It wasn’t easy. At one point, I found myself thinking, “Will I ever feel like myself again?” But I kept pushing through. Slowly, I built tolerance and moved to face-to-face exposures—sitting alone with my daughter, leaning into the thought that my siblings might die, reading articles about my worst fears, and calling myself the things I feared. Each session was challenging, but with time, the thoughts started to lose their grip. By my eleventh session, I started to realize: OCD was here, and it wasn’t going away, but I could keep living my life despite it. I didn’t need to wait for it to be quiet or go away to move on. Slowly, it began to quiet down, and I started to feel like myself again. In fact, I am not my old self anymore—I’m a better version. OCD hasn’t completely disappeared, but it’s quieter now. Most of the time, it doesn’t speak, and when it does, I know how to handle it. The last session with my therapist was emotional. I cried because I was finishing therapy. I remember how, in the beginning, I cried because I thought it was just starting—because I was overwhelmed and terrified. But at the end, I cried because I was sad it was ending. It felt like I had come so far, and part of me wasn’t ready to say goodbye, even though I had already learned so much. It was a bittersweet moment, but I knew I was walking away stronger, equipped with the tools to handle OCD on my own. If I could change anything about my journey, it would be being open and honest from the beginning. It was the key to finding true healing. The transparency, the honesty—it opened the door to lasting change. I’m no longer that person who was stuck in constant panic. I’m someone who has fought and survived, and while OCD still appears from time to time, I know it doesn’t define me. I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments. Have you started therapy, is something holding you back? Is there something you want to know about ERP therapy? I'll be live in the app answering each and every one today from 6-7pm EST. Please drop them below!