Names have been changed.
Before I learned that I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), I thought the way my mind worked was normal. I bet everyone recites things to themselves before they’re allowed to fall asleep, 7-year-old me thought. I know everyone has to do a series of actions, touching and reciting things before they leave their house, but it is strange that no one talks about it…I thought when I was 10. But that all changed when I was 11 and my first therapist asked me, “What ‘compulsions’ and rituals do you do everyday?”
My parents had just divorced and I’d moved from New Jersey to New York City.
I experienced a lot of anxiety in this time of transition. My parents thought that I would benefit from talking to a therapist, and I agreed. My first therapist’s name was Jane. She was older and nice enough. She claimed that she “specialized in adolescents.”
We talked about my anxiety extensively, especially how I coped with it. When I told her about my rituals—the words I constantly recite, and my extensive bedtime routine—she told me that what I have sounds like Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The typical behaviors of OCD that she described, the rituals, felt relatable.
I was a bit shocked that this was in fact not the way everyone else acted, although I had begun to realize this when I joined social media and saw that no one posted about these behaviors (and people post about EVERYTHING on social media).
After talking with my therapist and my parents, I started following people on TikTok and Instagram who openly discussed their OCD. They talked about what were normal behaviors to me, but in a way that made me more aware of how they weren’t normal for most people.
It certainly wasn’t a physical community or a place where I felt safe enough to share my own experiences, but listening to others helped me feel seen and comforted during this time of confusion and self-discovery.
OCD Is a Constant Distraction
Through my therapist and a bit of Googling, my understanding of OCD finally solidified. I learned that Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is characterized by obsessive thoughts, which often feel intrusive or scary, and compulsions, or rituals, which follow the thoughts. I like to think of it as a loop: I have an obsessive, anxiety-provoking thought, so I do a compulsion. But that’s never the end of it. Minutes or even seconds later, I will have the urge to do another compulsion, often a different one. Each compulsion is tied to a certain obsessive thought.
Anytime I am alone in my room, whether relaxing and watching a show or working at my desk, I am constantly forced to pause what I am doing to complete a compulsion. It’s as if I have a fussy baby that keeps crying in the back of my mind that I consistently get up and tend to.
Even while writing this story, I have to pause to do compulsions, like tapping the door, counting, or readjusting various objects throughout my room. These frequent compulsions make everything a slow process: homework, studying, and writing. Sometimes, I get so focused on an assignment that I think, Maybe I won’t have to stop and do a compulsion! But that thought triggers a compulsion, of course, and disrupts my concentration.
In retrospect, the thing that bothered me most as a kid was how my obsessive thoughts made me constantly in fear of my own mind.
Trying CBT
In therapy, OCD began to be our main topic of discussion, so my therapist recommended that I start seeing someone who specializes in OCD and cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT). CBT is a type of talk therapy that focuses on facing one’s fears rather than avoiding them. It helps patients become aware of how one’s thoughts (cognition) are related to one’s behavior, and how you can build up your tolerance to anxiety, like building a muscle.
So I said goodbye to Jane and hello to Karrie, my new therapist. Karrie was kind, bright, and younger than Jane. To 13-year-old me, she even seemed cool.
Her office was tiny but welcoming. At our first session, I came in nervously from the empty waiting room and sat down on the long leather couch. She asked me all of the typical questions, basically forcing me to recall my life story. Then, Karrie gave me an OCD screening test, which I passed with flying colors! Even though my first therapist had informally diagnosed me, this was my first official diagnosis, which provided me with a stronger sense of clarity.
Our first step of CBT was creating an inventory of thoughts and compulsive behaviors, and sorting them by least to most distressing. We started by attacking the least distressing thoughts, with the aim of working our way up the list. It is a type of therapy that often works well for people with OCD. But for me, it felt tedious and forced, causing me to feel very uncomfortable during therapy.
When Karrie asked me to keep a journal of my obsessive thoughts, I looked at her in complete disbelief. Writing down or even speaking aloud my obsessive, fearful thoughts was something that felt impossible to me. They scared me so much that I felt I could never say or write them down. On top of that, tallying my compulsions would be extremely tedious; I would have to mark a tally every couple of minutes! I tried, but gave up after only a day.
Impossible to Ignore
My OCD has always been hard to talk about. Besides my parents, I’ve only told a handful of my closest friends that I have OCD, not even my teachers. I resist telling people because I don’t want to be seen as someone who is struggling, even though I often am.
Another reason I choose not to share with people that I have OCD is because I am afraid of people asking,“What are your obsessive thoughts?” I can’t bring myself to say them out loud.
So talking about them in CBT came to be a lot more than I could handle. Maybe I just wasn’t fully committed to this type of therapy. I wasn’t ready to push myself and smash the barriers of my OCD.
During my last week of school in 8th grade, I broke up with my therapist.
I was in Karrie’s office on a warm day in June. She asked me how my CBT homework had gone, which remained untouched in a folder. I was generally unengaged and over it all. I remember I spent most of the session looking out the small window, which poured sunlight into the room.
At the end of our session, when she said, “See you next week!” I replied, “Oh, I thought my parents had already emailed you. I’m planning on taking a break for the summer. You know, because I’m leaving for vacation soon,” I said awkwardly but with a touch of satisfaction.
Although my parents and I had decided to pause therapy during our trip to Europe, the truth was that therapy made me feel drained and I just wanted to forget about my OCD and enjoy my summer.
I had convinced myself that I was happy and would be fine on my own. When high school started up in the fall, I felt like I was “too busy” for an hour-long, weekly therapy session, and the break became permanent.
It turned out that forgetting my OCD was impossible, no matter how hard I tried.
Trying to Manage OCD on My Own
Looking back, the only thing that has stuck with me from my sessions with Karrie is, “OCD is a bully, and my OCD thoughts are not me,” a phrase I was supposed to repeat to myself. None of the strategies, explanations, or ways to stop the constant distractions we discussed were helpful.
With Karrie, I was able to dig into and vocalize what my OCD is like, but I feel like I didn’t learn how to relax my mind. She understood that discussing obsessive thoughts can be challenging, but we didn’t talk about how to make talking about it easier. Instead, she urged me to track and “try to go without doing compulsions,” which wasn’t that helpful.
A couple of months ago, though, I decided to try. I was sitting on my bedroom floor and staring at the 10:00 p.m. on my phone screen, dreading my bedtime routine.
After completing the required compulsions that allow me to leave my room and walk to the bathroom, I was bursting with frustration. Maybe I don’t have to do all of these compulsions before I can get in the shower, I thought to myself. Things were getting out of hand. But it wasn’t as if I could do anything about it that evening. No, not this week. I have to wait for next week to change anything, I reasoned.
Over the next week, I strategically planned which compulsions I would be able to reduce in order to make my routine run a little bit faster.
But even after taking a few compulsions out of my shower routine, my mind has continued to race. Now, at bedtime, I stand under the hot water, trying to distract myself from my obsessive thoughts. I try to reflect on my day or daydream or let my mind wander to a happy place, but I am always pulled back into a loop of compulsions.
After a long day, I would love to curl up in my bed and go to sleep, but I can’t until I’ve completed my routine.
All of these challenges have made me realize how hard it has been to go from having a personal, safe space where I could talk about my OCD with my therapist to having no space at all. Sometimes, this makes me feel alone, and I think about how great it would have been if I had any type of community to find support in, which would have made this transition a lot easier. Instead, I’ve been lonely as a consequence of my spontaneous decision to leave therapy.
When I feel like I am really struggling, sometimes I go back to the platforms and pages I visited when I was first diagnosed to remind myself that I am not the only one struggling with OCD.
Someday I Will Return to Therapy
It has been three years since I stopped seeing a therapist. At 14, I thought I was independent and could handle my OCD alone. I thought that being in high school would automatically make me 10 times more mature, even self-sufficient.
I was one of those people who thought, “I don’t need therapy!” Now I wonder, if I had continued seeing a therapist, would I be less ruled by my compulsions? Would I be less anxious? More in control of my mind?
Writing this story has made me realize how much I try to put up with my OCD, when instead I should be getting help. I’m not looking for a “fix,” as I doubt that therapy will free me completely of my compulsions. I just want to grow.
In discussing therapy with my YC editor, she reminded me that “therapy should be for you.” So I am ultimately glad I left Karrie, because her style didn’t work for me, but there are lots of other modes of therapy that are worth exploring.
After searching for a therapist with my parents, we found someone that we think may be a good fit for me. I have a consultation with her soon, which makes me feel both excited and nervous. I’ve decided to keep an open mind. If the chemistry isn’t there, I’ll keep looking! I won’t give up until I find the support I need to reduce my compulsions, so that I can finally relax my mind.
- Mental Health