The Truth About OCD
There is one particular thing that grinds my gears. I’ve kept my mouth shut about it for a long time, but I no longer can do that. The particular thing? It’s Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). It’s not OCD itself that bothers me, it’s the way the term is loosely tossed around, joked about and abused. Why does this bother me so much? Because I actually have OCD.
Oh, you like to organize all of the rooms in your house? Your closet is color coordinated? That’s cute. Good for you. Honestly, I’m glad that you take pride in tidiness and that organization is one of your strengths. However, that is not OCD. Then what exactly is OCD, you ask? Let me tell you.
OCD is spending hours cleaning the bathroom because if you don’t do it “just right” your mom will die on her way home from work, and it will be ALL YOUR FAULT.
OCD is feeling like you have to pray for hours and must include everyone on the “prayer list” because if you don’t they will die, and it will be ALL YOUR FAULT.
OCD is feeling like you must pray every time you hear a siren, otherwise someone is going to die, and it will be ALL YOUR FAULT.
OCD is having dark, disturbing thoughts and images involuntarily enter your mind. And because of those unwanted thoughts, you think you are those thoughts. I must be a mass murderer (obviously, this is not true, but OCD makes you believe you are a sick, twisted person).
OCD is being a slow reader. Must. Read. Every. Single. Word. Sometimes over and over again, until the sentence feels “just right”.
OCD is having to write, erase and rewrite words, letters or numbers because they looked too “perverted” the first, second or third time.
OCD is having an unreasonable fear of “catching” AIDS or cancer, even though you know you can’t “catch” those diseases.
OCD is being five years old and making sure you inspect every single piece of your favorite candy to make sure it has an “M” on it, otherwise it is probably a drug. And how dare you take a drug, you bad, bad child. (Mars Company, I deeply apologize for ever doubting your intentions)
OCD is not being able to get out of bed until the the last two digits on the clock are on a “perfect” number, otherwise you are guaranteed to have a bad day. A very bad day.
OCD is being in a constant state of guilt, and punishing yourself because of this.
OCD is so much more than the things I listed. I realize that this disease affects people in different ways. Some people are more “O”, which means they obsess over things that are out of their control. I am more of an “O”. Whereas, other people are more compulsive (“C”). This means that they are more likely to count/touch things over and over again having to constantly wash their hands, etc.
The examples I listed are things I actually struggle with. I could say struggled, but that would be lying. I still struggle. But I now know how to handle these obsessive thoughts. I’ve learned how to talk myself out of them. I have the power. OCD does not. I was around 15 years old before I realized this. Before then, I didn’t know there was something wrong. I thought it was normal. I am so thankful that is not the case.
Unless you think a loved one is going to die because your closet is not color coordinated, or it will cause you such great anxiety that you will physically not be able to function, I highly doubt you have OCD. So, please, for me and the millions of others that actually suffer from this disease, do not abuse the term. You’re organized, you’re anal, you’re a neat freak, you’re a fan of cleanliness, but you’re NOT a victim of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
PS: I’m still a very slow reader, although I no longer feel the need to inspect my M&Ms.
*Side Note: I wrote this some time ago, but I still feel the message is important. I still feel the need to champion those struggling.
