Lisa (from NY)’s OCD Story

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Lisa’s Battle with OCD

OCD first intruded into my life when I was a teenager. It began as obsessions with my body, primarily my nose and my weight. I couldn’t stand the sight of my nose and I would wear sunglasses (even indoors) to cover up what I thought was a monstrosity of a face.

In my late teens, the obsessions with my appearance were replaced with gay obsessions. I suddenly had this intense fear that I was a lesbian and I questioned whether or not I was attracted to my female friends. These obsessions continued for a short period of time and were followed by a period that I call my “OCD remission.”

It wasn’t until my early 20’s that OCD would rear its ugly head again into my relatively peaceful and happy existence. I am sharing my story because I want others to know that OCD is not just about washing, checking or other rituals. There is another horrific side to this illness, and I want others to know that they are not alone and should not feel shame for thoughts they cannot help. I was 22 when I found out that the man I called “Dad” was not my biological father. I was devastated and the stress from learning this information created a tailspin of intrusive, obsessive thoughts. At this time, I began to have deviant sexual obsessions, such as whether or not I could molest someone. I lived with this obsession for more than 3 years and it kept me from enjoying the people I loved most: children. I would have obsessions such as, “could I touch someone inappropriately?” and “am I a horrible person?” These thoughts I kept to myself because I didn’t want anyone to think that I was an evil person. I endured this inner nightmare and sure enough these obsessions were replaced with others.

A few months ago, I had another intrusive thought about my boyfriend. The thought popped into my head as if someone had slammed me with a brick. I had an out-of-the-blue thought of stabbing my boyfriend, which spiraled into more obsessions of hurting others. I finally had had enough of intrusive thoughts and checked myself into the psychiatric unit of the local hospital. I was 26 at the time, and had been grappling with obsessive thoughts on and off for more than 10 years. It was at the hospital that I finally learned that I wasn’t losing my mind and that I wasn’t alone. OCD/Depression was my diagnosis and I was so relieved to learn that I wasn’t some horrible person, rather it was the illness taking over my mind.

And that is why I am telling my story. For those of you reading, please know that you cannot control your obsessive thoughts and they are not a part of your moral character. It is a neurological illness that can be treated with medicine and therapy. Do not feel ashamed; get the help that you deserve and find the happiness in your life that has always been there, just unattainable because of this vicious illness. Take care and best wishes.

The content in this post is mirrored from my original OCD site here;


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