There is nothing good in one’s life for which OCD can take credit. That is, successful people with OCD succeed despite it; not because of it.
I’d be 26 years of age before even knowing the medical name of this internal hell that had plagued me for so long; or that it was even a medical disorder as opposed to a personal one. Until then, I simply thought; one, I was crazy. And, two, that I’m the only person in the world going through this nuttiness (one psychiatrist I’d visited had in fact referred to me as being “nuts.” At least he had a diagnosis, incorrect as it was. The others couldn’t even offer an opinion).
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) is a very strange and insidious phenomenon. In the first place, it’s nearly impossible to explain it in such a way that anyone who doesn’t have it can actually understand. What’s worse is, when you do try and explain, most people truly do think they understand.
Put, simply, OCD is a chemical imbalance in the brain which manifests itself in two ways, often combined.
Obsessions are thoughts, images, or impulses that occur over and over again and feel out of your control. The person does not want to have these ideas, finds them disturbing and intrusive, and typically recognizes that they don’t really make sense. Obsessions are accompanied by sickly, horrifying feelings of fear, disgust, doubt, and intense guilt.
OCD has been such a big player in my life. It has taken much. As I recover, I realise it has also given me much. This is my story!
Ah man, where do I start. I’ve had OCD since I was 7 years old (or at least, in hindsight that is my earliest memory). I remember being on holiday in Florida. There were two key instances on this trip that stuck out to me. The first was the night we landed my Dad wasn’t well. So he stayed in the hotel, while my brother, Mother and I went out to get some food. I remember being at the restaurant and feeling anxious about my Dad being bitten by a tarantula. My visions would go in all weird directions, like him dying from the bite or us coming back to the room to find him in that state. I just remember going over and over these scenarios in my head – involuntarily. These visions stayed in my mind, and I remained anxious until I saw my Dad. Of course, my dad did not get bitten by a tarantula. The second instance I can remember is being by the swimming pool. I was petrified to go in. Why? Because I was certain there were ‘sharks’ in the pool. And as soon as I went in I would be attacked. Deep down, I knew this was rubbish. But something in the back of my mind told me ‘what if’. I would jump in and swim across a corner going diagonally. I was swimming about 2 metres, I would then propel myself out of the water and away from the edge, making sure no sharks could reach me. My family and everyone around me found this hilarious. For me however, being in that water shot my anxiety levels up. In hindsight, I see the funny side.