What Living with OCD is Like

There are varying forms of OCD, so my type may be different from yours. For me, my OCD is definitely related to keeping things in order exactly how I like it. It's gotten better over the years with the help of medication and therapy, but before I was diagnosed and medicated, it was all-consuming.

My mind was ruled by repetitive, nonsensical thoughts that had me unable to fall asleep until the blankets on my bed were perfectly folded across my chest. If my alarm clock and jewelry case were not placed exactly how I wanted them on my end table, a shock of adrenaline would flood my system and I absolutely had to fix it, or else anxiety would flood my body. It wasn't just anxiety though; it was a sense that if I didn't fix the items that were out of place, something bad would happen. It was like if I didn't succumb to the orders my mind was making to keep things exactly in place—I would pay, somehow.

I have vivid memories of playing with my dolls as a child and not being able to continue playing until I looked at every item in my room a certain number of times. I would look at my bed, dresser, table, closet, lamp, and toys—and had to keep doing it until the obsessive thoughts ceased (which they never truly did). Even while at friends' houses I couldn't fully immerse myself in play because my intrusive thoughts would order me to look at different items over and over again, making sure they were where they were supposed to be. Playing with another girl's dollhouse gave me anxiety because I couldn't control where the little furniture and accessories went. One of my friends asked on a day we were playing with her Polly Pocket dollhouse, "Why do you keep doing that thing with your hand?"

In order to keep track of where things were and how they were placed, I would almost 'wave' my hand in front of my face towards the item to make sure I saw and registered that it was there. I did it so many times that I guess I hadn't realized I was doing it. That was the first time someone pointed it out to me, and it was at that moment that I thought maybe it wasn't normal. I had no concept of what OCD was, so I didn't have the proper understanding that this kind of behavior needed treatment.

When my panic attacks began at age 17, my therapist had asked me if I experienced symptoms of OCD. After having took an AP course in psychology (and watching Monk starting at age 11), I was now well aware of the symptoms and that I likely had them. I described to her and my doctor about the weird hand thing I did, and that I couldn't relax or go on with my day without acting on my intrusive thoughts. Getting ready in the morning took ages because I had to scrub my body enough until my mind decided it was clean; I couldn't get undressed until I checked endless times that my bedroom door was locked; and I had to rehearse all the items in my car before pulling out of the driveway. It was complete madness, and I didn't know how to stop it.

After months of therapy and medication, the difference in these obsessions and compulsions was dramatic. I no longer felt the need to endlessly check the bedroom lock; make sure my bed sheets were 'just so' before falling asleep; and I didn't have to check every inch of the toilet for spiders before sitting down. When I noticed this, I couldn't believe it; it was like these thoughts had been ejected from my body.

Today, I still have symptoms of OCD that linger in my daily life. They're by no means as severe as before, and I know how to handle them better than I did as a child. When I catch myself doing the weird hand thing, I pause and take a breath; I remind myself that it's just a thought, and I don't need to act on it. The medication I take helps majorly, and I don't think I'd be as functional without it. I can perform daily tasks without fear that an obsessive thought will take over and I can't continue without acting on it. I'm still very anal about the placement of my things, but it's nowhere near the level of compulsiveness as it was when I was younger.

I don't think I'll ever truly get rid of my OCD, but I've learned valuable tools to help control it. I never want to go back to when I couldn't simply go to the bathroom without doing the rituals that my disorder commanded. Some days my OCD is worse, others it's barely noticeable; but thankfully with the help of medication and therapy, I know I control it and not vice versa. OCD can kiss my ass.