Doubt is thought's despair; despair is personality's doubt. . .;
Doubt and despair . . . belong to completely different spheres; different sides of the soul are set in motion. . .
Despair is an expression of the total personality, doubt only of thought. -
Søren Kierkegaard

doubt 1 a : uncertainty of belief or opinion that often interferes with decision-making b : a deliberate suspension of judgment 2 : a state of affairs giving rise to uncertainty, hesitation, or suspense 3 a : a lack of confidence : DISTRUST b : an inclination not to believe or accept dis·or·der 1 : to disturb the order of 2 : to disturb the regular or normal functions of Definitions from Merriam-Webster Dictionary

"Mary"

I've never known life without OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder). From as far back as I can remember intrusive, unwanted thoughts and fears have plagued me.

The first "episode" of OCD that I can clearly remember was when I was about 5 years old. I became totally obsessed with thoughts about heaven, hell and eternity. I was raised in a church going home where religion and spirituality were very important. I would spend hours trying to figure out "eternity". I felt that if I could somehow "figure" it out, I would be okay.

The concept of not having an end, as is the case with eternity, was far more than my 5 year old mind could handle. I was "scared" of eternity. I prayed to both God and the Devil at the time, asking, no begging them to help me, to help me STOP thinking and worrying about eternity. In time, the "eternity obsession" faded and about the same time an entirely different set of symptoms appeared. I began feeling compelled to do certain physical motions, such as eye blinking and making "clicking" noises with my tongue. Even at the tender age of 5 or 6, I fully KNEW that there was something WRONG with me, that this behavior was not "normal", but I couldn't quite figure it out. I did my very best to hide what I now know to be "tics," holding it all in for as long as I could and then finally releasing it all once I was alone. I usually did this in bed at night, which is also a darn good place to have obsessions. Bed time was not my friend.

I can remember standing back and watching other children, looking to see if they were doing the same kinds of things I felt so compelled to do. They were not. It messed with my self-esteem alot and I pretty much suffered alone as I did not really want to tell anyone about the weird and constant thoughts I had or the repetitive, senseless physical motions I felt "compelled" to do.

By the time I was 7, I very much had a "secret world" going on inside myself, one that I dared not share with anybody. At times, I thought I was crazy, at other times I thought I was just a "bad person" or a "stupid person", anyway I looked at myself, I definitely wasn't who I wanted to be.

Obsessions, fears and panic attacks would plague me off and on during my adolescent and teen years, but it wouldn't be until I was 20 when I had symptoms bad enough to put me on the Psychiatric ward. This would not be my first experience with Psychiatrists, as I spent a part of my teen years seeing one. Unfortunately, at no time was I diagnosed with OCD or Tourettes, those diagnoses would come much later. During my time in the Psych ward, I was given several different medications including tria-vil, elavil, sinequan, ativan, valium, zanax, desaryl and others that I can't even remember. What was my "official" diagnosis at that point? "Schizoid Affective," which looking back now and having the knowledge that I have now, that diagnosis would be a huge laugh if the whole thing weren't so sad!

Although I had always thought of myself as very intelligent, I found myself at the age of 20, sitting across the desk from Social Workers who told my Mother that I would NEVER live a normal life. That the most independence I could ever hope for was to live in a half-way house. Thankfully, I NEVER believed any of that for one second. I was definitely down, but not out. When everyone else wanted to "give up" on me, in no way, shape or form, was I willing to give up on myself. Looking back at my life and the tremendous struggles that I have had, my "fighting spirit" is probably what saved me. I partially attribute that to having Tourette Syndrome, where "tenacity" and "perseverance" are well-recognized tourettic traits.

I would struggle with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder pretty consistently for the next 15 years, with most of my obsessions now revolving around the fear of acquiring HIV and AIDS. Although I had no risk factors for getting AIDS, I became absolutely obsessed with the fear of being "contaminated" by the HIV virus. During a 8 year period, I would have more than 40 HIV tests, all negative of course. But due to the doubting nature of OCD, I would no more than hear a "Negative" result from the clinician, that I would doubt what I actually heard, doubt the accuracy of the test, doubt the honesty of the Doctor and doubt that the test was even performed. I could think of a million scenarios of "why my negative test result could not possibly be accurate."

And so it goes with OCD. It's a never ending circle of doubt and deception. On the very off -chance that I received my "negative" test results on a rather good OCD day for me, I would then walk to my car, perhaps see a bandaid lying on the ground and somehow "convince" myself that I now acquired HIV from that bandaid. A reason for another test!