This was my normal. And it had become my family’s normal too. Odd numbers, uneven lines, cracks on sidewalks–these were no-gos. Counting in fours, even numbers, the sign of the cross, and spelling out each word said on my favorite television shows–these were musts. 

I’ll rewind to about two years 4 years ago when I started worrying that I had hit a pedestrian while driving so I would have to loop around multiple times turning a 5 minute commute into a 30 minute one. If my wife or friends were in the car, I’d just ask for reassurance and keep moving on.

Growing up, I struggled with Pure ‘O’, and ritualistic behaviour. When I was fourteen, during summer vacation, I suddenly had this thought, how can I be sure I’m not a cannibal. I don’t think there was a specific trigger…

I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t anxious. As a kid, I worried about small things, big things, even existential things, for as long as I can remember. Two early examples, from when I was probably about 5-6 years old, that come to mind are:

My ankles wobbled. My quads ached. My mind raced. What’s the point of this, anyways? Why am I here? Why […]

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It was my 7th or 8th Christmas when my first intrusive thought came to my mind. I was in my […]