When I was a small child, I was obsessively terrified of going blind, falling deaf, or becoming mute. I do not know what triggered this intense fear, but it stayed with me for several years. Having grown up in an evangelical Christian household, my method of dealing with this anxiety was praying feverishly that I'd avoid this plight. This praying was methodical and exhausting. I'd repeat the same sentence frantically until I felt the fear pass. "Praying without ceasing" was celebrated in the church, and I assumed that my actions were normal despite them being so tiresome.
It wasn't until my adult life that I was able to look back on this experience and recognize it as the first manifestations of my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
For as long as I can remember, I've struggled with what I used to describe as "anxiety". People would ask me what I was so anxious about. Much of the time, I was unable to determine a direct cause. I was often plagued with intrusive thoughts, some so bizarre and distressing that I began to question my own character. They seemed to appear at random, and I developed several mental (and occasionally, physical) compulsions that I'd repeat until the darkness lifted.
While my OCD has roots that reach back into my childhood, it became a most powerful poison when I began my career in software. As an unassured young woman in my early twenties, I found the corporate world incredibly daunting. I wanted desperately to succeed, and allowed my "perfectionist" tendencies to take the helm. I'd obsess over every line of code, every story requirement, every social interaction with my colleagues. I'd review my own pull requests until my eyes were sore. My morning showers were spent mentally replaying my actions from the day before, and I'd hit myself if I recalled anything unsatisfactory.
Unsurprisingly, these patterns led to severe burnout after a few years in the field. Defeated and exhausted, I finally turned to a psychiatrist to explore what might be wrong with me and how I might fix it. I was diagnosed with OCD, and prescribed an SSRI that "might help" with symptoms. Due to my fear of brain altering substances, I have yet to take this medication (more on this another day).
However, I have been working to overcome my destructive tendencies in the small natural ways that I can. Receiving a tangible diagnosis to what was once a mystery ailment has been instrumental in taking steps towards a healthier existence. There are a few fundamentals that I've been returning to during episodes.
Distressing mental experiences are intrusive thoughts. They are a symptom of my OCD and they are not an indication of some sort of evil lurking inside of me.
My intrusive thoughts are not random. If I concentrate, I can identify their trigger and work towards dispelling them in a healthy way. Example: If I'm having an intrusive thought about a sharp object lodging into my eye, it's likely due to catching a glimpse of something sharp lying around. I can locate that trigger, touch it, and remind myself that I am in control of it. Intrusive thoughts are merely thoughts, they cannot hurt me.
I can overcome regular obsessions by running towards them, rather than away. When I leave the house I almost always face the obsessive worry that I've left the stove on and my apartment will burn down. I allow the thought to occupy space in my brain, and I take a meditative moment to try to solve it logically. In the past, I've tried to fight that worry by attempting to push it out of my head - which only makes it stronger.
It is unfortunate that OCD is generally recognized as merely a boon for keeping a clean house, or organizing a sock drawer. When left unmanaged or unrecognized, OCD can have severe reprecussions on the human mind. I don't think that I will ever be able to completely erase my OCD. However, I'm learning how to put up a hell of a fight.