Leah’s OCD Story

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I am 24 and have been suffering from OCD as long as I can remember. It got extremely severe when I went away to college this past September. It got so bad that I had to take a sick leave.

My most tormenting and reoccurring thought was that my best friend was in a fatal car accident. I would wake up in the morning and think “how can I go to class if my best friend has just been killed”. I would shudder at the thought and blink my eyes only to see the car crash more vividly. It’s a full frontal collision, its at night because the headlights are on. She is wearing a grey sweater which is completely blood stained. Her face is pressed up against the steering wheel causing the horn to sound continuously. There are shards of glass in her beautiful face. There is gallons of blood pouring from a laceration in her scalp. My roommate walks in and sees me with a white ghastly look on my face. She knows the routine and says “Leah, go to class, I’m sure your friend is fine”. I reply “how can you be sure that she wasn’t in a terrible car accident, I’m almost positive that she was”. She then hands me the phone to call my friends cell phone but I can hardly dial because my hands are trembling. I dial the number only to receive her voicemail and then I’m sure she has left this world. That’s when the grieving process begins. I would lay in bed all day crying, miss all my classes and dining hall hours. My roommate would come home again and force me to try again. I would never do that on my own since I am so sure she is gone. I would dial her home phone only to get a busy signal. This would lead me to believe that her family was notifying people of her death. It could be the day of an exam and my roommate would say “I’m sure they are just on the phone for no reason and you have a Biochemistry exam in 10 minutes”. I would reply that I’m sure my teacher would understand.

My roommate would continue to dial her phone number while I was in the corner crying hysterically. Thinking about how I never got to say good bye. She would hand me the phone after she had tried my best friend’s mother. I would slam down the phone as soon as I heard her Hello. I would then replay in my mind the tone of her voice and decide if she sounded like she had just lost a daughter. That still never consoled me but I was too scared to call back. My roommate would sometimes convince me to call back and make sure things were okay, or sometimes try her cell phone again and get through to her.

When I finally do get through to her, I ask “Are you okay?” Of course I am totally shocked to hear her voice because I truly believed that I would never hear it again. It takes me a moment to compose myself and then we carry on a normal conversation but I know my OCD got me again. I promise myself that I’ll know next time that just like she’s okay now she’ll be okay then. when I’m woken in middle of the night to the same thought with the blood stained grey sweater the hell begins all over again.

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

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