Tales from an OCD Mind

I do not like the person that I have become, I don’t even know what I like or don’t like anymore. Who am I, as a person? What do I value? It seems as if everything has been stripped away from me. Nothing makes sense anymore, and the things which aren’t supposed to make any sense in life are those that plague me day and night with a horrendous intensity.

I experience constant guilt. I cherish those first five minutes in the morning after waking up before I am struck with the initial shock of OCD. It is like I only have brief moments of peace interspersed between these obsessions throughout the day. First comes the obsession, then my anxiety kicks in, making it feel as though everything is going to crumble apart if I do not perform a certain action. There is no certainty, there is no room for logic. The only power which prevails this maelstrom is the big bully — OCD.

That big bully OCD is very conniving and knows which strings to pull to actually break you. It knows you in and out, it knows your deepest fears, your pet peeves, and your subconscious thoughts. It is so intelligent, that it knows how to get you to perform its bidding. You always end up an unpaid, exploited slave, who has no control over your own identity. You have lost your freedom — the very sight of certain pastimes or things which you used to enjoy before are now unbearable. It has sucked everything from you, leaving you doubting whether you actually can think clearly and properly anymore.

It’s just that before this bully came into your life, everything was perfect, even though you might not have realized it then. You were capable of making your own decisions and you had a sense of who or what you were. You were not controlled by anyone but yourself. You were powerful and had the freedom to cherish your thoughts. But most importantly, you were never constantly afraid, you were never hating yourself this way before.

How we wish we could have just dodged this bully. How would life be like if it weren’t for this particular encounter? Would I be happy and free to do what I normally do? These are questions to which we may never know the answers and maybe they are better left unanswered.

How would you feel if your mind was at war with you every single second of your life? How would it feel to actually be enslaved by your own mind? You do have the keys to the handcuffs currently encircling your wrists, but you are unable to free yourself. This bully, his problem is meant to be taken care of seriously, its pain is meant to be felt. If you try to avoid it, it only bounces back stronger. Well we all know that to deal with a bully, one must stand up for himself however difficult it may seem. There is only one single way out, and it is a pretty tough ride ahead. The road to recovery is steep, one pitfall and you slide back down to where you started, sometimes even lower. The light towards the end of the tunnel seems ever unattainable. It is like you know what you should do, you know the rules, you know that you shouldn’t give in to the bully, but sometimes you just reach that breaking point where you can’t stay strong anymore and you just break apart like a sheath of ice gently cracking from the inside.

There are times after performing the compulsion that leaves me in a state of despair and it is during those moments that I absolutely hate the person that I have become. I know that I should not give in and I know that it’ll only demand a much bigger ransom the next time but I crave for those fleeting moments of relief.

For the people on the other side, it just seems all so trivial. But it is only we who face these gruesome demons. They pick at what you love and concoct dreadful fears and theories out of those. You are accused of sinning and you are helpless without any lawyer to defend you.

You may tell us to — “Just stop thinking, when you know it isn’t real, why bother?” or “Why can’t you just step out of it?”. But it is very difficult to fight a war that is waged against you. When you, yourself are the enemy, the enemy knows every single detail about you and can come up with a surprise attack any time only because it knows you so well.

Now tell me, how can we fight an enemy who knows all our tricks, our weapons, and attacks? We just fall down, pleading for the enemy to give us some amount of temporary respite, for mere moments of just existing without its burden on your shoulders.

Isn’t it pretty ironic that we really do know what is to be done to recover, we know the rules, we have the tools, yet why do we put up with so much of a struggle doing the opposite of what we ought to do? It’s because one moment you’re determined to recover clear this knotted web of a mess in your head once and for all but just the next moment you find yourself agonizing over the painful possibility of what the bully has just told you.

You hate this bully, you absolutely despise every inch of this wretched demon, but yet you can’t toss it away, kick it in the butt because of that tiny little fear festering at the back of your head — “What if this is all true? What if this isn’t OCD? What if this really is an indication for me? What if I really am an absolutely despicable human being?

The line between peace and war is super thin, it is always at your reach, just a few footsteps away from the war zone you have currently ensconced yourself in. But the moment you take a step forward, you are dragged behind ten steps by this invisible nagging force which is stronger and way more resilient than you are.

I have had good times, plenty of them actually, even while this bully existed.

It is not a situation of war all the time. The enemy does need some time to recuperate. It is during those fleeting moments that you actually begin to doubt if you ever had this disorder at all in the first place. You are strong during these times, and you feel as if you are totally in control of your mind and that you are ready to face whatever this bully throws at you. But ‘snap’, the bully is back with its revitalized form, back to torment you, to make you play its bidding. The cycle begins all over again.

I often wonder whether I would be the same person if not for the OCD. Would I have been better or has OCD made me become the person that I am right now?

Has it really taught me how to endure difficult times or has it just left me even more shattered than before? But I guess it’s just a mixture of both. I would not be the same person were it not for OCD, it is a part of my life now. I wish for the day to come when I actually bid farewell to this bully.

Someday I just want to be able to say that,

“OCD has knocked me down several times, but maybe not enough to break me”.