Browsing Tag

Compulsions

OCD

Childhood to Adulthood OCD

My name is Skyler. And I have had OCD as long as I can remember.

My dad was the first person to start calling me “OCD”. Before I even knew what it meant. With some of my compulsions being obvious to him since I was little. Such as: making sure closet doors are closed all the way, excessive and often aggressive eye blinking, excessive stretching and contorting of my limbs. Particularly my arms and wrists. Picking up pieces of paper or trash off of the carpet, repeatedly touching things or checking things, making sure adjacent objects are flush with each other, (books, dvds, cd’s, toys, cards) flipping light switches on and off and looking at the clock every 30 seconds.

Most of my compulsions I had as a child, come and go. Or have faded in intensity over time.

The only compulsions that have become more severe with age have been the stretching and especially the blinking… which causes me daily headaches and eye pain.
Now onto the real problem…. the obsessions.

As a child, my obsessions were the smaller half of my OCD. With my compulsions being in the spotlight..

But as I entered adulthood, my obsessions began to increase in severity, complexity and frequency.  Until arriving at a point where they rule my life from the moment I open my eyes.

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OCD

On Avoiding Writing this Essay

Sometimes, unfortunately things have to get worse before they can get better.

It is currently late Saturday night, 10:45pm to be exact. I’m sitting at the desk in my dorm room, surrounded by posters and phrases encouraging me to “Take Courage!” and “Embrace Uncertainty!” I have been reading my medical entomology textbook for the past hour and a half, all the while with the weight of needing to write this essay pressing for my attention. So with my medical entomology reading now done, English reading done, dinner eaten, emails answered, and no longer a strong excuse of something else I could do first to continue avoiding, here I am at my computer at 10:49pm. I am now trying to force myself to finally start writing this essay I told myself I would absolutely write yesterday. This is after I had told myself I would absolutely write the essay a week ago. Oh to live life with OCD and anxiety.

I can remember having OCD my entire life, but I didn’t always know a name for it. I have one strong memory from Kindergarten of insisting that I needed to redo my painting because it wasn’t “perfect,” even when the other kids in the class moved on to a new activity. I remember in elementary school staying up later than an 8-year-old should having to “knock on wood” repetitively because I worried if I didn’t do this or did it the wrong number of times my family would die.

Though I have always had these symptoms of OCD, I quickly became a master at hiding my compulsions (of course I didn’t know yet they were called compulsions) and keeping my fears to myself. At this point in my life, the obsessions and compulsions were annoying but not debilitating to the level that I felt I needed to share them. So I didn’t. These first few years my OCD would focus on one theme at a time, and the theme would gradually change over the years. My obsessions changed from fearing causing my family member’s deaths to fearing causing fires to fearing suffocating. If a compulsion was particularly annoying I would just figure I could wait about a year and it would change into something else, hopefully something less annoying.

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OCD

From Abuse and OCD to Travelling the world and inspiring others

She told me how she wanted to show those above her that OCD can be fully managed and not something to be drugged up and forgotten about.

Oh The OCD Stories, what a pleasure it is to be writing for you.

I spend most days browsing through the stories written by those little beans struggling with the terrible thing that is OCD.

I guess I should introduce myself, I’m Jessica. Pleased to meet you! I run a little space over at littlestlady.com detailing my struggle with abuse and various mental health difficulties right through to recovery. I spend my days between a busy nursing schedule trying to teach others that they can recover just like I did.

See, that’s what I did. Got rid of it all! Gone, goodbye, au revoir! Well I say ‘gone ‘but it’s under management anyway. Considering my OCD took approximately 5 hours out of my days, had me trapped inside my house and unable to complete day to day tasks, to living a normal life, I think you could call that pretty much good and gone.

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Pure O

February Fifteenth: My Obsession with Obsession

I was finally going to be able to live my life instead of just fantasizing about living it

When my older brother pointed out more than five years ago that we both show symptoms of obsessive compulsive disorder, I immediately dismissed the idea.  At the time, the only knowledge I had of OCD came from bad TV.  I’d never experienced contamination-based anxiety, and so I didn’t understand where my brother was coming from.  When he explained that there are many manifestations of the disorder, I felt defensive.  After all, I’d always harbored fantasies of winning the argument against my mind; why did he have to bring logic into this?

While my compulsive behavior is pretty fluid and has allowed me to enjoy a variety of the various different themes over the years, the one constant source of anxiety for me has been “Pure O”.  I get feelings that my life is going to be somehow incomplete or even outright meaningless, and this train of thought causes me to constantly perform mental checks to ensure I’m living the “correct” life.  I have to keep in mind what I perceive to be the official meaning of existence, and in moments when I fail to do this I feel like my actions are “unofficial”, that they don’t count as a part of my actual life.  Because of the nature of these thoughts, I assumed for years that this was some sort of ongoing philosophical/spiritual crisis; it never crossed my mind that I was ill in any way.

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OCD

OCD and Education

My personal opinion on the OCD treatment is find a therapist and if medication is suggested give it a go, you will save a lot of time and feel much better

Hello,

My name is George

This is another OCD story, I’ve been diagnosed and receiving cognitive and medical therapy for one year now. My ocd adventure is not a success story (apologies if I have disappointed you). I’ve been failing at everything my whole life and had the worst of luck, I didn’t developed any social skills due to my social phobia and the fact that from the excessive criticism I got from my friends, family, teachers, relatives etc. had caused me to be bothered with the life of others and often compare my-self to them as me the dysfunctional human specimen and them having the greatest physical features and achievements that I could never reach. My school grades were awful and yet for the very few A’s I got I again got criticism for not having many and only on easy subjects.

My first panic attack happened when I was 16 years old when I had my GCs and more specifically the day of the speaking exams, I was trembling from the time I woke up till a few hours after I left the examination room. It was the same time when my compulsions with door handles were manifested. I finished high-school with almost no recollection of good times and then I joined the army for 2 years a duty that was mandatory but also a period of my lifetime which damaged and scarred me for life due to the strict rules that we had to follow and on the first year intrusive thoughts were manifested. As soon as I got out of the army I went for auditions to an undergraduate music course where I failed and my parents forced me to take the exams for becoming a policeman and when I failed on purpose they forced me to join a university following a computer engineer course where I again failed from the 1st semester. On the following September I started a course on environmental sciences after having a test on professional orientation which pointed the type of careers that I could follow with my skills.

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OCD, Peadophile OCD

Standing at the Gate of the Journey

That’s what I like about me, there’s always that stubborn and insistent side that, for real, KNOWS. Knows that I CAN do it, that eventually I WILL.

Hello, my name is Rodrigo. I am 21 years old and live in Costa Rica. I have a wonderful family: mom, dad, four sisters -two with families of their own-, two nephews, and a niece. My friends are wonderful, supporting, incredibly helpful, and just plain awesome. I am a filmmaker and a musician, passionate for both art forms. I have nothing to complain about in my life – I would like to be a little taller, but that’s frivolous – but I am far from being fine. Actually, I am not fine. I am doing badly. Allow me to tell you why; and bear with me, because I like detail.

On a Tuesday in June of 2014 I was practicing keyboard in my room when, suddenly, this little thought crossed my mind: “What if I… raped somebody?” My reaction was a serious face and an internal “Whoa”; however, I didn’t make much of it. I kept on practicing, only a little distressed. I spent the rest of that day having that question in mind, but attributed it to just “being distracted”. The next day, I was constantly repeating to myself “I will not think about rape today”, even during practice, which of course only distracted me more.

It didn’t take long for the question to leave my mind. But something came to replace it: images. Images of me raping a woman, child, or man; getting caught by the police; being thrown into jail; being on the news; my friends hating me and leaving me, alone; my parents and sisters crying, disappointed. I applied the same technique as before, “I will not think about rape today”, every day, and added REALLY TRYING to focus on whatever I was practicing or studying. By the end of the week, I wasn’t a man rapist anymore, but I was still a woman and child rapist -in my head, of course-. I was a monster that only needed the right time and opportunity to reveal myself. My TRUE self.

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Pure O

My OCD Transformation

Accept anything and you can transcend everything.

I can describe and give an in-depth, detailed account of the intricate ways OCD affects my mind all too well. My mind and the mechanics have always fundamentally been the same. Never once do I remember my mind being any different than the way it already is, was, and always has been. However, I’ve discovered focusing on this path too much ultimately only causes more confusion…and more problems. I’ve experienced how it leads you “down the rabbit hole” into an endless cycle of a game you can’t win. And I know, because I’ve played. Endlessly. Sure, you might win some battles, but it’s never long lived. Eventually, after each loss, you’re left more damaged and confused than the last time.

Not long ago, I was so focused and obsessed on figuring out my mind that I refused to quit, to a fault. No matter how much distress or added suffering it caused me I pushed on. Even though I’ve lived with these conditions my entire life, I had never actually stumbled upon anything tangible until a handful of years ago. I had become obsessed with the intrusive and unwanted thoughts plaguing my mind everyday. Once I discovered these “impostors,” I couldn’t leave them alone. I needed so badly to comprehend the entirety of these conditions. It was like I needed to know almost more than I needed to breathe, quite literally.

Ultimately, I have found that to truly grasp the totality of these conditions on a constant basis is impossible. Even if I could, to always have an answer for every unanswered question is literally hopeless. It’s draining and defeating. However, once I learned that OCD is largely hereditary and biological, it provided me with a figurative sigh of relief. I think it really helped to know that no matter what, these conditions are here to stay regardless of my attempts to fully understand them or not. In other words, it is irrelevant if I am able to understand the ins and outs of OCD if I’m going to let it completely consume me.

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Intrusive Thoughts, Sexual Orientation OCD

OCD: The Monster In My Mind

Of course, these are just a couple of minute benefits on a long list of disadvantages and difficulties, but to me, they matter.

Since early childhood, I have been living with a monster in my mind. To me, this is the most accurate way to describe OCD, as it, quite simply, feels like a separate and conflicting being that lives inside of me. When I was a kid, the monster had a face but never a name. A middle aged vampire. A young guy wearing a back to front baseball cap. Sometimes I could have sworn I’d see the vampires shadow on my bedroom wall, haunting me. But, in reality, it left no trace of its existence. It, and all of its weapons designed to hurt me, were simply a figurement of my imagination, I told myself. My brain being bad. It was only years later that I learnt there was a name for my suffering: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

My struggle started around the age of seven or eight. My struggle with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder began when I was around seven or eight years old. Back then, it was more irritating than anything. I began to feel unignorable urges to touch and stare at things until they felt ‘right’ and, after a while these compulsions helped ease the anxiety I felt about childhood phobias. From this age, I was already beginning to feel different from the other kids. I felt stuck in my own little world most of the time, trapped in a battle with the urges. By the time I reached ten, the obsessional side of my OCD developed majorly, keeping me up all night and leading me to spend every night in the bathroom, carrying out compulsions. At this point, I remember two obsessions being present; the phobia of losing my hair due to the condition alopecia (which my mum’s cousin had suffered from) or by being diagnosed with cancer, and the fear that something bad would happen to my family if I didn’t carry out a series of ritualistic compulsions.  I remember feeling a crippling sense of anxiety in the middle of the night, when everyone else was asleep, convinced that my hair was going to fall out, and brushing it compulsively until I became sure that it wasn’t. I remember feeling ashamed and disgusted about the unusual and bizarre compulsions the monster told me to participate in, or else, my family would be in danger. It was a scary and confusing time of my life, but back then, it was bearable, and I was unaware that anything was really wrong.

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Anxiety, OCD

Recovering From OCD One Day At A Time

I can acknowledge that I am not my thoughts.  I am not my obsessions.  I am not my compulsions.  I am NOT my OCD.

I’m *so* OCD.

****

No, really, I am.  Not like that Target sweater.  Not like Monica from Friends.  I mean, have you seen my room?  It’s a war zone.  I hardly have the mental fortitude to organize items by type, let alone by color and alphabetical order.  Not like Billy or Suzie who claim they’re *so OCD* about X, Y, or Z when what they really mean—and lack the eloquence to articulate–is they’re human.  Because as humans, well, we have quirks. 

OCD has been my beast of burden, my shameful monster, since childhood.  Back then, I had absolutely no language to pinpoint what these weird obsessions or compulsions were that dictated the real estate of my brain.  Swallowing a certain number of times.  Knocking on my head as a substitute for wood when I felt superstitious about something; that act would in and of itself become a new compulsion.  Checking my heartbeat to make sure I hadn’t been scared to death (after reading a ghost story aptly called, “Scared to Death.”)  Playing the same piano chord after every piece I practiced.  Just to feel right.  Looking behind me at my, um, rear end, to make sure I hadn’t sat on any mud lest classmates think I’d pooped my pants.  LAUGH all you want!  Ha.  I do in retrospect, too!  But these were real, very real, compulsions and obsessions that I couldn’t break away from.  And, twenty + years later, I still get locked in my brain.

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OCD

Ineke Suffers From Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

With this fallback prevention my OCD is still at a livable level

I have OCD and I check everything 4 to 16 times.

I could no longer work and reported in sick, had suicidal thoughts and led a completely isolated life by my OCD. I checked everything  2, 4 or 16 times. If someone or something disturbed me,  then I had to do it again.

During an obsession I get anxious, tension in my muscles and I perspire a lot. Sometimes I start to cry and shake. I know it’s hard for others to empathize, but it felt sometimes as if the world was ending. Then I had to check everything and ask others to confirm if things are correct several times. In the past this checking and asking for confirmation was going on all day long.

I am now 50 years old, I’ve had OCD since I was 18. I started checking and asking others to confirm, after I had recovered from Anorexia.

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