OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) is a condition that is very much misunderstood by most. One need only look into popular culture to see that, more often than not, it is talked about in jest. Or, (*cringe*) used to describe people who like things to be in order all the time.
I have OCD. I am going to be honest and tell you right up front that is rather frustrating to have a condition that is constantly being made fun of. I know and understand that many people mean well, and aren't trying to be hurtful. But I am hoping this article can shed some light of what it is like living with it, and that you can better understand what it's really about.
To begin, let's just get this out of the way:
I am not, in anyway shape or form, a neat freak. I do not obsess over things being straight, nor am I a germaphobe. I am not the living embodiment of Monk or Monica Gheller.
People who know me well will tell you quite the opposite. Not that I am a slob, but housekeeping is not one of my favorite activities (especially where dishes are concerned.) My Mom will tell you that I have a very bad habit of leaving my art supplies haphazardly scattered all about the living room.
There are some people whose OCD can have the trait of compulsive cleaning, but most people with the condition don't actually have that. I've only met one person with OCD who has that compulsion.
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder begins with Obsessions, or Intrusive thoughts. That is the number one hallmark of OCD. With intrusive thoughts, you can be diagnosed with it, even if you do not necessarily have compulsive habits to go along with it. This is the category I mostly fall in; though I have had a few compulsory habits over the years. The compulsions usually occur as habits that those with OCD use to try and quiet the obsessive thoughts. (1)
So, how do these intrusive thoughts work? It's different for different people. However, I will explain how it began for me.
My early twenties were a very difficult time for me. My life was basically in shambles. I am pretty sure that the stress of that time led to my brain going completely haywire in the way it did.
I think I always had intrusive thoughts of different kinds before this. However, the ones that came up around this time were more brutal than anything I had experienced up to that point.
One night, maybe around age 20, or 21, I was lying in bed trying to go to sleep. When, all of the sudden, a thought popped into my head. It was of a religious nature, and a very, very negative and bad one at that. I am not going to say specifically what it was. It unnerved me to say the absolute least.
Then, the thought kept playing over, and over again in my mind, like a broken record player. Nothing I did would make it go away. I quoted scripture like crazy. I prayed with all my heart. It was worse at night; and thus began a series of nights where I had panic attacks, and not much sleep.
The hard thing about the intrusive thought was that I knew how ridiculous it was that it was there. I didn't want it. I don't even know why it popped into my head in the first place. I had absolutely no feelings whatsoever related to that thought. It was just there, harassing me and grinding me down to utter nothingness and dust.
My fighting and inner battle exhausted me and I was trying my absolute hardest to hide it from everyone. I was convinced that if I opened up about it, people would view me as insane. Or worse, a bad Christian.
After a while, I seriously began questioning my own sanity. I began to doubt everything about myself, including my salvation in God. If this thought was there so heavily, repeating itself over and over again, did that say something significant about me? Was I actually just fooling myself?
I would constantly be in a state of telling myself: "Don't think! Don't think! Don't think....!" Yet, the more I told myself this, the worse it got.
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It didn't occur to me at the time that it was making it worse. However, I didn't have any other idea of how to deal with it.
It's hard to explain intrusive thoughts to people who don't have them. People with healthier brains can get those weird, random thoughts, and they just move on and it never comes back. For those of us with OCD, however, it isn't that simple.
I literally thought that my brain was my absolute worse enemy. I began to hate myself, as well as my mind.
I finally opened up about it to my parents, because my inner state and my life was becoming more and more of a nightmare that I absolutely could not handle on my own. I was sent to a psychiatrist, and he put me on Prozac. The relief was instantaneous, albeit, short-lived. I began to feel physically better than I had in a long time.
However, over time, the thoughts started coming back, and I had to keep increasing the dosage. That was very frustrating. I continued to deal with the thoughts and felt like I was continually hitting brick walls. (Not to mention the crazy side-effects. I had constant nightmares and sleep paralysis on Prozac.)
I began to wonder if eventually, my mind was going to be the absolute death of me. I asked God to take the thoughts away, because I wasn't sure how much more I could possibly take. I begged, and begged for it.
This next part of the story may sound a little strange, but bear with me.
I had another thought that started popping into my head. It wasn't intrusive, but they were words:
"My grace is sufficient for you...."
Those words began repeating themselves over and over again in my heart. Yet, I ignored it for a long time. For some reason, at this point, I had forgotten about the account in scripture of Paul's thorn in the flesh. I thought the words were maybe from a sermon I had heard, but I could not recall all the details.
I decided to look it up.
2 Corinthians 12:6-10 talks about Paul's thorn in the flesh. It talks about how he had pleaded with God to take away from him the issue that he was dealing with. Yet, God didn't. God told Paul His grace was sufficient and absolutely enough for him. He told Paul that, through his weaknesses and struggles, God would be glorified.
I broke down and cried. Because, right there, God had answered my prayer. I finally understood. He wasn't going to take my issues away. Rather, there was a promise there; a promise that He would make me stronger through it.
Let me say and make it very clear that I do not think that God was "speaking" to me. That is not what I am saying at all. I do believe, however, He was trying to help me remember Paul's example that I had forgotten. Through the word, the Holy Spirit does amazing work in our hearts.
At that point, I had begun to accept that I might very well struggle with this the rest of my life. And the truth was, I still am. I accepted that, somehow, God was going to use this craziness inside my head for the better. That definitely began some healing and a renewed sense of hope.
However, attending Freed-Hardeman University was a big turning point in my life. I was able to receive counseling, and for the first time, I was actually receiving tools to help with the intrusive thoughts.
The first step was just accepting that they are there, and that weird thoughts were going to come with this condition. I also had to accept that they had nothing to do with me personally. They are the result of living in a broken world, and a result of a brain that was ill. I'm going to be honest, getting to fully accept that was not easy. It took a lot of changing in the way I saw things and thought about them.
Next I had to accept that it was a tool of the enemy to try and break me.
Satan is real, he is active, and he is working. He looks for any weakness that he can exploit (1 Peter 5:8.) And yes, he can even use health conditions as a way to wiggle his way in. We all have weaknesses and things that we struggle with. We all have temptations, and most usually have health conditions of one kind or another.
This is why we have to stay alert and vigilant. With the brokenness of the world we find ourselves in, we have to cling to God and His word, His promises. We have to cling to one another as siblings in Christ.
OCD is a very difficult condition to live with; however, I get a little stronger everyday. I still take medication. It isn't Prozac anymore, but I take a small dose. I take health supplements. I try to spend more time outside. I snuggle with my dog, Jolie, who is my emotional support animal. I go to counseling. I do my best to make my spiritual life a priority. I put on silly cartoons and I laugh my head off. I spend as much time with family and friends as I can.
God gives us many tools that we can use to fight. God works through many incredible avenues, whether it be medicine, exercise, or whatever it is.
To conclude, if you struggle with any kind of condition, or if you think you have OCD, you are not alone. There is hope, and there is always a reason to keep fighting. The best thing you can do is tell someone and reach out for help! Please understand that mental illness is an illness of the brain, and that there are ways to help it and fight it.
I am opening up about my story because I want people to better understand what it means to have this condition. I want there to be more compassion for it. And I also want people to understand that it is more than okay to be open about it and reach for help. If someone treats you like a weirdo or doesn't offer you compassion, go find someone else who will listen to you. There is someone out there who will be understanding. As someone who has been there, I am a safe person to talk to, and I will do my best to point you toward resources and people that can help!
God doesn't leave us to float alone. God works through people and things to help us in our times of need. That is how he blesses us. That is how I have made it this far; because of my faith and the people around me. If you need a light, and a little hope, and maybe even faith, I am more than happy to share that with you. Stay strong.
Love,
Chelsea
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1.https://medlineplus.gov/ency/article/000929.htm. "Obsessive Compulsive Disorder"
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