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.