Cancel culture is making OCD worse. It’s becoming evident to me that the world in which I’m living in is contributing to my fear, anxiety, and depression. I can’t escape constant judgment and ridicule from things I do. Also social media advertising “perfection/perfectionism” in just about everything and everyone is also damaging. I’m sold a lie every day while being told I’m a degenerate for whatever interests and hobbies I like by random faceless people on the internet. I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety for a VERY long time. Since childhood. I can tell you I’ve never felt this suicidal in my entire life as I do in this moment. I can see why so many take their lives at 27 because the thought of it has been crossing my mind more and more frequently. (I’m still trying to fight it though. I haven’t completely given up yet) but I can’t shake this feeling of loathing and undeserving of happiness. I can’t forgive myself. I can’t move on past the pain in my life. And seeing everyone’s thoughts and opinions 24/7 online isn’t helping either…idk I just needed to rant. I needed to get this out I’m so tired and broken. I’m starting to think I’ll never be ok again.

(Long post warning) Hi, I’ve been struggling with severe OCD for six years now. it started in 2019 with my theme being getting sick/emetophobia. it devastated my life. I almost didn’t graduate high school from it. I remember washing my hands for three hours one day until they were nearly bloody while crying and asking why I could not stop doing it. I remember id have to write and rewrite sentences when I did my English homework and that’s why I nearly failed that class. I remember how I would spend up to thirty minutes to an hour pacing the halls of my apartment while my mom was asleep until I neutralized the thoughts about throwing up and I could finally go to bed. I don’t know when it happened, but my theme switched. Sometimes in late 2020 or early 2021, it switched to POCD. It started with a single thought, and I focused on it and it’s been my theme since then for four years. It has been absolutely destroying me. I feel so disgusted and lost and just tired. My compulsions are severe now. I thought they were bad before, but now they’re ten times worse. I can’t eat, drink, change my clothes, walk, or even do things on my phone normally. I’ve developed so many mental compulsions that it’s so intricate and complicated yet at the same time I’ve done them so much that they’ve become normal. An example I have is if im putting on a shirt and I have a “bad” thought, I have to take it off and put it back on two more times (that’ll make it 3 times I put the shirt back on - odd numbers are my safe number). I have to have a good thought on the third time otherwise I have to take it off and put it on two more times to make it five times I put on that shirt. If not that then I just put on a different shirt because the original is now tainted with my bad thought. I can’t open apps on my phone. It’s with the numbers again. If I open TikTok once while having a bad thought - I have to close it and open it two more times and so on. Sometimes I do it up to 30 times. So I just don’t do things usually. I don’t turn on the TV because I know I’ll redo it. I don’t open a book or grab it off my shelf because I’ll have to repeat the action. I can’t even lay in bed without getting up and redoing it even if im exhausted. I just feel so helpless. I don’t know what to do. I feel disgusting and even now my minds screaming at me that I am dirty and what I think is true. I just wish I was free of this, I wish I could just live my life. I’ve wasted hours and days because of my compulsions. I mask it so well around my friends. I don’t do them in front of anyone or I’ve learned to hide it well. But when im back home alone, it goes haywire. I just want to live again.

This is gonna be a long one: So a little over a month and a half ago, my OCD started to spiral again. I’ve had ups and downs with it in the past, my main themes often changing. When I was younger it as afraid I’d run away, in middle school it was germs. But as I got older I started having intrusive thoughts of the meaning of life, suicide, and dying, with those fears being my common themes now I’ve gotten a lot better since it started back up, but lately have been panicking because I’ve had intrusive thoughts that my methods of trying to heal are wrong. I’m 21, and for the last 3 years have lacked ambition and haven’t pursued my dreams or things I want to do. I just sleep, work, eat junk food, and play games or watch YouTube on my time off. Things I still love, but after years of living this way, I’ve hit a breaking point and want to start doing more with my life and the people in it Yet, almost EVERY new thing I’ve been trying to do or start, I’ve been having thoughts that they’re wrong or won’t help. Here’s some examples: I’ve started trying to eat a bit healthier, and my brain is telling me it’s not gonna fix me and I’m just avoiding food I like (junk I know makes me tired and sad). Then the moment I indulge in even one unhealthy food item, it tells me I’m failing at taking better care of myself and that junk food just numbs the feelings Same with video games. I tell myself it’s okay to play them as long as it’s not to avoid anything or they don’t take up my life like they have been. The second I do I feel guilty, say it’s cheap dopamine and hindering me from being productive and that I’m numbing my feelings again Same story for everything. Trying to walk and go outside more. Head tells me I’m avoiding being home because it makes me anxious. Then when I stay home it tells me I’m wasting time I could be spending outside or with people I love I’ll wanna spend time with my family or friends because I’ve been a hermit for years and miss spending time with them. When I try to, head tells me I can’t because then I’m avoiding the issues I have and seeking reassurance, and that I need to learn to tolerate this alone. But then when I stay home too long, I get anxious and sad because it does make me happy being around them even if I’m not seeking reassurance, and they genuinely do help me feel better (for example I saw my grandparents last night and talked about my feelings and desire to actually go out and live life, and they helped me understand uncertainty is part of life and I should do things I want anyways and even helped come up with things I may like to try doing. Now my brain tells me it’s bad to get help or open up about my pain) I’ll have racing thoughts in my head and I’ll be arguing with myself over rather it’s better to face them head on, ignore them, or let them run their course. It feels like no matter what I do, I’m feeling guilty and shame for it. As if any attempt at feeling pleasure or doing something that makes me happy is “avoiding the problem”, like I HAVE to focus on my intrusive thoughts, anxiety, and sadness 24/7 otherwise I’m “avoiding/burying it again” I know not to avoid these things and it’s best to confront them (if they’re real problems I have like relationship issues and insecurities and loneliness) and learn to tolerate the anxiety and uncertainty of life and OCD, but my attempts at “helping myself” are quite literally what I feel is currently keeping me so miserable. They’re sucking whatever joy I have in life out, telling me it’s bad, and that I have to feel this way all the time so I can “learn to tolerate it” I’m just so scared of doing all of this wrong, and I think my OCD I knows that and is currently using that to toy with me. I want to be healthier and happier, but then I feel guilt and fear for not being healthy 24/7 and indulging in not healthy things like video games and the occasional junk food. Anybody else ever felt this way?

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.