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John Franks


My OCD Story: Experience, Hope and Recovery

It can always be treated now. There is always great hope. The last few years have been the best years of my life.

I was 7 years-old and it was the first time I’d stayed over at my Grandma’s on my own. The evening was great – it’s a lovely sort of hazy memory of childhood happiness, having fun, being cosy and happy at your Gran’s.

But suddenly, as she was hugging me Goodnight, the thought shot into my head that if I strangled her she wouldn’t be able to stop me because of being too frail. It terrified me. There was no thought in the world that could have appalled me more.

Looking back now I can see that the circumstances conjured this up in my mind. It was an involuntary thought – intrusive. The problem was that the thought didn’t go in one ear and out the other. I obsessed about it. I was a growing boy, shocked to realize that I was already stronger than my Gran. In the nightime stillness of her bungalow I glimpsed through childhood eyes the vulnerability of an elderly person that I loved dearly.

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