Having obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) makes me feel like I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders – like if I don’t do something such as close a door 35 times, someone I love will die or the world will explode.
It’s like constantly playing a game of tug-of-war with myself, except it’s no fun and there’s no winning.
The main ways that this disorder is portrayed in the media are by obsessive cleaning or organization.
What many don’t know is how many different ways OCD can manifest besides orderliness and contamination obsessions – although these forms are very real.
I was diagnosed with this disorder in 2023, but I have been experiencing symptoms ever since I was in elementary school.
I believe one of the primary reasons it took so long for my diagnosis was that growing up I didn’t have the type of OCD that is typically talked about.
It is estimated to take about 17 years from the onset of OCD symptoms to get a proper diagnosis and treatment, according to a 2021 research article from PLoS One.
One of the reasons for such a long duration between onset and diagnosis is self-stigmatization and stigma from society, according to the same article.
I always saw it as a “cleanliness” disorder, and I was never a perfectionist regarding cleanliness, nor have I ever been too worried about germs.
It wasn’t until my OCD took on a more recognized form, checking, that I was finally diagnosed.
The criteria for this disorder consist of having unwanted, intrusive, and time-consuming obsessions and compulsions that can take whatever form, according to Cleveland Clinic.
Throughout my life, I always knew I was experiencing symptoms outside usual feelings of anxiety.
My obsessive themes would constantly change ranging from natural disasters, health, superstitions, checking and more.
It started in elementary school, when my mind became preoccupied with thoughts of natural disasters.
Whenever I’d learn something new about the topic in school, my parents would be like, “Here we go again.”
Tornadoes, sinkholes, earthquakes, volcanoes, you name it, I was afraid of everything.
Were any of these things common in the Central Valley where I grew up? Nope.
Yet my anxiety defied all logic, and I spent every second of the day believing one of these things would kill me and everyone I loved, and doing whatever my brain told me would prevent these from happening.
Some people say, “I’m so OCD,” whenever they want something perfect – which only reinforces the stereotypes surrounding the disorder.
Some of the most popular characters I saw growing up that were considered representations of OCD or displaying obsessive traits are Emma Pillsbury (Glee), Monica Geller (Friends), and Death the Kid (Soul Eater).
All of these characters suffer from either organization or contamination obsessions, and are typically used for comedic effect.
However, there is a lot more to the disorder than what is portrayed in the media, and it is frustrating how little people truly know about it.
In middle school I started struggling with symptoms of hypochondria, which is excessive anxiety and obsession with potentially having a serious illness, according to the Cleveland Clinic.
This is when I first went to therapy, because my anxiety was so severe that I had multiple panic attacks a day.
I was always on WebMD, checking symptoms for a potential illness and every second I was alone I checked my body for any irregularities.
I was stuck in the OCD cycle, which starts with unwanted obsessions that cause distress, leading to compulsions that provide temporary relief – only for the obsessions and anxiety to come back, according to Mayo Clinic.
When I feel a compulsion kicking in, I have to do it or something awful will happen, like everyone I love dying.
Sometimes they (compulsions) come out of nowhere like those annoying internet pop-ups that get in the way of whatever webpage you’re on, and there is no option to exit out of them.
I also started partaking in magical thinking and superstitions, particularly jinxing, despite not even believing in it.
If I had a positive outlook on anything, my brain would tell me I’d jinx it and that I’d have to think negatively to prevent the worst-case scenario.
Whenever someone would try to reassure me about anything like “you won’t die on the plane ride,” I’d believe they jinxed it and I was doomed.
It’s conflicting, because like I said, I don’t really believe in jinxes, but my brain basically says “better safe than sorry.”
I was eventually diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, but it still took many years for me to receive an OCD diagnosis.
Sometimes people mix up rituals and compulsions, which is one of the reasons why people say stuff like “everyone is a little OCD.”
Rituals can take the form of a bedtime routine or house cleaning, and people feel a sense of accomplishment or pleasure when they do them, according to an International OCD Association webpage.
Meanwhile, compulsions are unwanted but feel necessary to prevent perceived catastrophes and a way to reduce short-term anxiety, according to the same article.
When I eventually got my first job, I worked closing alone and was responsible for the entire building.
When my coworkers had to close, it took them on average fifteen minutes, but for me, it could take over 2 hours and I’d spend hours after wondering what I may have done wrong.
I would get dizzy and nauseous from excessively walking around the building to check everything.
The responsibility and pressure I put on myself were overwhelming – I’d constantly check the doors a specific number of times, or until I felt I had done it right.
I’d check that I set the thermostats correctly over and over again, and my camera roll was overflowing with pictures of them to check later and reassure myself.
I could go on and on about how many different things in the building became a fixation for me – checking sinks, windows and whether any electronics were plugged in.
Once, I drove all the way back at night in the pouring rain because I wasn’t sure if I had closed a bag of chips, and for some reason, I thought I’d die if I left them open.
After a year of my obsessive closing procedure, I knew something was wrong and was finally taken seriously by a psychiatrist and diagnosed.
Unfortunately, OCD has no cure, according to the National Institute of Mental Health.
However, treatments like psychotherapy and medication, such as selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs), can make symptoms easier to live with.
The worst part is how embarrassed and ashamed I feel when I do my compulsions in front of other people and know that people probably think I’m crazy.
It’s especially awful knowing that none of it is rational, but the irrational side of my brain always wins.
Although OCD is something that may always affect my life, the amount of time I spend on my obsessions and compulsions has decreased.
But I can’t help but think about how the severity of my symptoms could have decreased a lot sooner if it hadn’t taken so long for me to receive my diagnosis.
Maybe I wouldn’t have felt so alone growing up because I knew I thought differently from everyone else, but never knew why.
