Content warning: This article discusses mental health & illnesses.
Over the summer, I found out some pretty important and heavy information about myself.
I was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD).
I used to try to describe my anxiety as a never-ending, all-consuming whirlpool that would take over my day. All I can do when these whirlpools take place is sit and stare at a wall and hope the whirlpool slows down.
I started therapy this summer, not just to get diagnosed but to have someone to talk to.
I tried to explain to my therapist how my brain works when I’m anxious. I told her how the thoughts would get stuck in my head, and no matter how much I tried to clear it, I was stuck. Then, one thought would lead to another, which would remind me of the test I have next week, which would remind me of a conversation I would have had, and so on.
All of a sudden, one thought ruins my day, sometimes even my week.
Even though I know this thought makes zero sense, that’s not enough for my brain to get rid of it.
Eventually, OCD was brought up.
At first, I thought that it didn’t sound like me.
OCD stands for obsessive compulsive disorder. “Obsessive” stands for the unwanted, unwarranted, intrusive thoughts that just can’t leave your head. “Compulsive” stands for everything that happens after; the actions and ideas that are done in an attempt to relieve the obsessive thoughts.
Compulsions aren’t always obvious.
Sometimes, the compulsions are entirely in your head. That’s why I think I had such a hard time wrapping my head around my diagnosis. I knew I was anxious and that I had anxiety, I just didn’t realize that there was a word for the thoughts that kept coming back for no obvious reason.
A diagnosis of OCD doesn’t stop the whirlpools. Some days the thoughts are loud and won’t leave. The difference? The name means I’m getting the help I need to make the thoughts just a little quieter.
October is OCD awareness month, and I think awareness is important because OCD is still so misunderstood.
OCD doesn’t necessarily mean wanting your room clean. It doesn’t mean wanting to be organized.
OCD is exhausting. It means fighting with your own thoughts while everyone else thinks everything is fine. It means knowing the whirlpool is completely irrational but being stuck for the ride anyway.
That’s why saying “I’m so OCD” can minimize a true anxiety disorder for people that have to live with it.
Before this summer, I didn’t understand OCD. I didn’t know that it isn’t linear, that I could be a person living with it.
I’m still learning about myself, and OCD along with it.
One of the biggest things I’m learning is putting a name to something I’ve called “my whirlpool” for so long feels weird. But, being diagnosed doesn’t change me, or anything about the person I am. It just lets me understand the scary corners of my brain, and that they might not be so scary after all.
The whirlpool analogy is still accurate. Some days, it spins a whole lot faster than others. But now, I can navigate it instead of staring at a wall.
And maybe, talking about the whirlpool makes it feel a little less powerful.