Why We Need to Talk About OCD

by Mason Sabre

I admit society has come a long way in the way it views mental illness. How it is treated now compared to ten years ago is phenomenal. However, more still needs to be done.

Take Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, for example. For a long time, it was regarded as an illness that made someone obsessed with cleanliness or evenness. In some ways, the outside world still sees it this way. Just do an internet search for OCD memes and you’ll find many of them pointing to this fact. The only way we’ll be able to remove these misconceptions about the disorder is to talk about it.

OCD is a Frightening and Debilitating Illness

I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. One way to push my buttons is to use OCD as an adjective and tell me you’re a little OCD about something.

I have had OCD for as long as I can remember. I can honestly look back at my childhood and see where it was in my life. My earliest memory of OCD making friends with me was of me putting sweet wrappers into my coat pocket because I was sure if I didn’t, my mother would die.

However, I didn’t get an official diagnosis until I was in my late twenties. For a long time, I had lived a secret double life. I had hidden the handwashing, the fear, the counting, the clicking, the checking, the repeating parts of words till they felt right in my mouth and all the other weird things OCD convinced me to do.

I can’t even explain how hard it is to try and pretend to be normal when your brain wants to do things that you know are not. Today my wife said something. Honestly, I can’t even remember what it was she said. We were having lunch. She said something that had a Ch sound to it. I asked her if she would repeat it and pronounce it correctly. She asked me why.

In my head, I’d heard that sound and when my brain latches onto it, this tick starts, and it repeats until I can’t take it anymore. I have to make the sound until I feel insane with it.

Ashamed of myself, I said because I am a freak, and my head just needs it. Of course, this was angry me talking; I do get angry with OCD. It is an inconvenience I didn’t invite into my life and some days I hate it more than anything.

My wife gave me that look, and I changed my answer to, because I have a chemical imbalance in my head and for some reason, it needs you to repeat what you said. I don’t know why.

I am lucky she is very understanding of my illness and will help me where she can. She spoke slowly for me and repeated the words in the way I needed it. The relief in my head. It was an instant anxiety neutralization.

Having OCD is No Joke

Anyone who does have it, has my sympathy and understanding. It isn’t just the illness itself that is the problem but trying to balance life with it. Having OCD is like having an annoying friend who just won’t go away.

I have heard OCD be described as noise, and yes, that is what it is. It is noise. It is a noise so loud that you can’t tune it out and concentrate on anything else until the OCD has had the attention it demands. The problem is, so many people live with this noise inside their head, and they suffer in silence.

I may have got my diagnosis in my twenties, but I am still ashamed of this illness. Only my wife knows I suffer from it. I have gone to extreme lengths to hide it from my children, and mostly, they just think I am a ‘clean freak.’

I write about OCD to try and fight my own fear of coming out with it. I am running the London Marathon next year. I am raising money for a Mental Health charity. On their page, they want you to talk about why you are running, but I am a coward. Rather than talk about the thing I struggle with every minute of every day; I wrote that I am running because my mother suffered from mental health problems. Which is not a lie, she did. But not really my reasons.

I asked my wife if I should come out and tell the family I have OCD. Our children are adults. The youngest is nineteen. They are exposed to mental health awareness now, but I am still unsure about it, and a lot of it is my embarrassment. I know I am not alone in this.

Breaking Stigma is Hard

OCD is hard to talk about when you’re at its mercy. For me, it feels in many ways I should be stronger than it. And it isn’t only that. OCD has some weird connections to it. For example, I have to wear specific clothes on specific days. If I don’t, someone I love will get sick and die, and it will be my fault. How do I explain that to someone without them thinking I am insane? How do I get someone to understand that OCD can convince me this is true?

For anyone who doesn’t have OCD, it is easy to dismiss those ramblings of the illness. If I ask my wife, would wearing my black jeans on Friday cause death in the family? She would tell me no. Heck, even I know wearing my black jeans isn’t going to be fatal for anyone, but OCD keeps chirping away in my head. No matter how much know it is wrong, it carries on until me, an otherwise logical person, is convinced this notion is true and it isn’t worth the risk.

This is what OCD is. Not just clothes, but thoughts, real, frightening intrusive thoughts. Driving down a street one day, you may see a child go to step off the curb. Anyone without OCD could easily drive on and continue to their destination, but for someone with OCD, we have to go back and check we didn’t kill anyone. And we don’t just check once. Nope. We have to check a dozen times and even then, the images OCD puts in our head come with us.

We Need to Talk About It

There is so much misunderstanding when it comes to OCD. Even those with it get lost to their illness because they don’t realize what they have is just that, it is an illness. It is a chemical imbalance that can be helped with therapies and medicines.

If my writing here helps one person who may be suffering in silence, then I have done what I set out to do. So much more needs to be done for the awareness of it, and so much needs to stop in the simplifying of it. OCD is not a cleaning illness. Honestly. It’s a monster that can move in with anyone.

Source: Medium 10.9.2019