OCD, Covid, and making new friends. Covid and I have had a rocky relationship that has only gotten worse, even after being vaccinated. I spent all of August trapped inside my own head, terrified that the littlest itchy throat or runny nose would mean I had Covid and could spread it to others. Things got better once I sat with the uncertainty; September, so far, has been wonderful. Even last night, I was thinking about how Covid and how if I hear someone cough I'm not bothered nearly as much. Until today. I wake up, going to meet someone new. My brain tries to tell me i'll catch Delta, i'll catch Covid and spread it, i'll have to take time off to be sick, i'll have to get tested, my week will be ruined. I tell my brain, I'm vaccinated. We're outside. I've met new people before in the same situation and haven't gotten Covid. I am willing to take this risk. I am not going to be afraid anymore. I meet up with this potential new friend. She coughs a little, I think nothing of it, perhaps some saliva went down the wrong pipe. Then she tells me she has a scratchy throat from yelling at work the past two days and "doesn't think she's sick", but also says she's going to go home and drink water and rest. I shut down while at the same time trying to assume the best in people. That's a valid conjecture, right? Voice overuse can make your throat really hurt, so I stick it out for the 45 minutes we are together, trying not to come off as being ABSOLUTELY terrified. I'm vaccinated. I'm outside. It doesn't help the storm building in my brain. I come home. I tell my roommate, who is a realist about my constant Covid anxiety. "If you get sick, you get sick, and there's nothing you can do about it." I call my mom "You'll be okay. She just had a scratchy throat. Don't worry over nothing." And yet, I make the reminder on my phone to get Covid tested on Thursday because that's 5 days after what could have been an exposure because that's what's on the CDC website for vaccinated people, because this potential new friend COULD have it. She could. And prepare myself for a week of depression, panic, confessing to everyone I see at work, at my DREAM job no less, that I hung out with someone with a scratchy throat for 45 minutes to be sure I am doing enough to protect myself, to protect others. Just like August, just like July, just like May. Or, not saying anything and feeling awful because should I? Shouldn't I? How do I make this cycle end? How do I keep my happiness despite Covid looming all around? How do I make new friends with this constant intense fear? How do I draw lines between my moral OCD and confessing and doing what if the best to keep Covid at bay? How do I not break down at the idea of searching once again for the perfect therapist for hours, when I just left an amazing therapist that I took months who isn't licensed to practice in my new location? Just a ramble I guess. Maybe someone can see this and relate, maybe someone has advice. Just putting this all out there. Hope everyone else is doing okay.

Soooo I’m over here just trying to make it to my next NOCD appt before breaking things off with a guy I’m getting to know 😞 it’s hard for me to tell if I’m having genuine concerns about compatibility, or if I’m spiraling into OCD. How the heck do I date someone and not consider compatibility? But I find myself going into fight or flight mode, or feeling like I need to make a decision immediately after a date, or ruminating about it all throughout the day, trying to figure out if the concerns are valid enough, if I’m settling, if I’m about to give up on something that could be beautiful…. Whenever I write out all my concerns, they don’t really seem like that big of a deal, or seem like things we could talk through. The biggest concern for me is whether we are compatible in the sense that talking comes easy or we feel comfortable around each other. But we’ve only been on 3 dates so it’s hard to tell. Things are still awkward sometimes. I am also autistic and this complicated things with how I socialize. So I told myself “just get to your NOCD appt in a few days and don’t make a decision til then. You can talk about it with them then.” It’s only my second appt tho, so I’m not even sure what they discuss at appt#2 and if we’ll have time to talk about it. I guess I’m just getting this off my chest right now and I appreciate this community where I can be honest 😔💛 (Added TW because I’m not sure if it would be for others)

Recently, since completing my year long therapy program and being connected with NOCD (and now in the transitionary period and waiting for the green light from insurance to work with an OCD specialist), I've been trying to convince myself to go out more and go to public places--to go shopping again, order food in-person, maybe to meet someone, get extra work, something! But...many days, basically EVERY day, my OCD bullies me into thinking my intrusive thoughts are the ONLY certain thing that WILL happen that day, even though they haven't. I worry I can't be around people, or that I pose some risk to others, and that it'd be better for the world, if I stayed in my family home. Unless I've been explicitly given a task by an immediate family (drive someone to an appointment/work/a commitment that they can't get to themselves, or the 1 part-time job I have), I'm to remain in the house, mostly my room. It's this paralyzing time-vampire, that just saps you of your will to do ANYTHING or break out of familiarity. Not even comfortable familiarity, just familiar. You know it's not good for you, and your over it, and that new better opportunities exist just outside of those doors, but so do the narratives your intrusive thoughts write. And why would you go out and risk turning an unpleasant page, when the familiar story you know all to well, and read every day has as serviceable. Not a good end, not a bad one. Just a temporary end. You revel in being able to put your head down on your pillow, at the end of the day, and close your eyes, simply because you made it through the day. You didn't accomplish much, due to satiating your obsessions with your compulsions for hours on end, but your pillow still feels so rewarding...your reward for surviving, even though you'll be deploy to that hellish battlefield in your mind again tomorrow.

OCD has been in my life since 2019, and I have no idea how to get rid of it. Everything started when I was 14. I had just started high school, and when I walked into the classroom, I was trying to figure out the atmosphere there. I was a very quiet kid in high school. I usually hated my skin, so I would wear my cardigan in a way that covered my hands and listened to lessons with my hand on my face. A few weeks later, people started insulting me, hitting me, and verbally harassing me. The bullying got worse, and from then on, I started bottling everything up. At that time, I cared too much about what people thought, and I began to believe others would harm me. Because of these thoughts and fears, I failed around 8–9 classes. In 2020, when the pandemic started, classes went online. I hated it, but I was happy because I wouldn’t have to see those people again—at least until I lost my grandmother. She passed away due to COVID, and that pushed me really far down. Back then, I had an edit account on Instagram. I loved making edits and I had friends I really liked. Talking with them made me so happy, but over time, their behavior toward me changed. They turned into completely different people I no longer recognized. They became horrible, and all of this happened just because I replied late to their messages. I wasn’t always online—I’m human too. They added me to groups, threatened me, and sent me awful messages. I began to hate myself more and more. Around that time, I also started becoming paranoid about people. When I met someone new, I approached them with fear, and this dragged me down further. For almost a year and a half, both online and in real life, I developed prejudice against people. This prejudice was mostly fear—fear and prejudice made me antisocial. When the pandemic ended, in 2022–2023, I had to do an internship in a place and a job I absolutely hated and couldn’t manage. The people there constantly mocked me, which pushed me down even more. I didn’t know how to deal with these situations because I was alone. I did the internship for about two and a half months, and when 2023 came, all the traumas and obsessions echoed in my mind. I felt terrible because of the disgusting events I had experienced. It felt like my brain had completely shut down. By January 2023, I was in an unbearable state. When I walked into the classroom, my teacher noticed something was wrong and started asking me questions. I immediately burst into tears and told her, “I hate myself.” At that time, the students in the back were making a lot of noise, so they couldn’t hear me. My teacher said, “Don’t turn around so they won’t see—come with me,” and took me to the teachers’ room. I told her everything, and I think I respect myself for that. But at the same time, my orientation felt like a burden on my shoulders, because I felt pressure from my family—as if I was supposed to meet a girl and start a relationship. I explained all the pressures, my obsessions, everything from beginning to end. She guided me and supported me. Almost all of my teachers supported me, and my prejudice toward people completely disappeared. Back then, I really thought I had beaten OCD. But in the following years, it came back stronger. I started hating my body. I took too many showers. The traumas replayed in my mind over and over. The more I tried to erase them, the more I thought about them—and I wasn’t the one controlling it. I couldn’t. When I do something, I often repeat it 4 or 5 times. I can’t pass through doors. I can’t touch certain objects. Even when I play games on my phone, I feel like I have to choose a character, but I keep choosing and canceling again and again. It repeats endlessly, and I can’t stop it. It feels like everything that once made me happy just disappears in front of my eyes, and I’m still fighting this. My family, my sister, my aunts, and my past teachers have supported me, but I feel like I’m disappointing them. That makes me feel terrible. On this site, I see so many people sharing their struggles with OCD, and knowing I’m not alone makes me both sad and, at the same time, a little happy. I just wanted to express myself this way. There are still things I couldn’t write—I really want to—but my thoughts exhaust me so much that I can’t.