My life, with OCD. - Thursday's Thought's

Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) is a mental disorder in which people have unwanted and repeated thoughts, feelings, ideas, sensations (obsessions), and behaviors that drive them to do something over and over (compulsions). Often the person carries out the behaviors to get rid of the obsessive thoughts.


My initial goal for Thursday's Thoughts was to get more personal, yet as I sit here with my fingertips on the keyboard, I can't help but feel slightly nervous and vulnerable. Writing about mom struggles and TV shows is one thing, but putting myself out there in a real way, talking about something I've struggled with my entire life, that is something completely different. I've made it this far though, with the title and the picture and even just telling you I'm unsure as I push forward, so I guess there's no turning back now.

You've heard it 1000 times before, "I'm so OCD, I just have to *insert something almost all people can relate to here*." The person saying it has probably never actually been diagnosed with OCD, or Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, and clearly has a very limited understanding of what it actually means to have it. It's not wrong to say that even people who aren't diagnosed with it do have certain obsessions, for lack of a better term. Things like, liking a clean home, preferring things to be lined up in a symmetrical fashion, or even being a germaphobe, are all things most people can relate to, but they aren't always symptoms of having the disorder.

I was diagnosed with OCD when I was 15 years old, a short year before being diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder). I was a sophomore in high school and I had been having what are called Intrusive Thoughts, which are an unwelcome involuntary thoughts, images, or unpleasant ideas that may become an obsession. My intrusive thoughts, at the time, were about my mother. I would be sitting in class and seemingly out of no where my brain would tell me "Your mom is going to die." From there I would start thinking about all the ways she was probably going to die. A car accident, cancer, heart attack, and so on. These thoughts would become obsessions and I would be texting or calling my mother 5 or 6 times a day or faking sick to go home and check on her. I would sit on Google and look up the signs and symptoms of a heart attack, or certain cancers. When these thoughts took over my brain, it became and obsession and the only way to alleviate the anxiety from the obsession was to immediately get in contact with my mom or, as I said before, Google things over and over again, which was the compulsion. This was just the start of my symptoms though. 

Throughout high school, and even after, the intrusive thoughts continued. They weren't always about my mom dying however. Sometimes they would tell me that my friends hated me, that everyone thought I was stupid, or in some of the worst cases, that everyone in my life would be better off without me. It probably sounds silly, but I promise you it didn't feel that way. Some days I would be so consumed by these thoughts I wouldn't be able to move out of my bed. Some of the ways I would alleviate the anxiety was to clean, or count things over and over, and even through self-harm. For me it was about control. I couldn't control my thoughts, but I could control the physical things around me. 

One of the most common ways OCD is managed, aside from medication, is through cognitive behavioral therapy which teaches healthy coping strategies and focus's on changing unhelpful patterns in cognitions and behavior. Through therapy like this and medication, by my senior year it seemed my OCD was mostly under control. I still had the intrusive thoughts, only now I had the skills to deal with them in a healthy way. That is, until I got my first job.

For me, my OCD flourish's in situations where I have the least control. It plays on my already socially awkward (and socially anxious) brain and likes to make me believe the worst things. I worked at a local hoagie shop for exactly one whole year after I graduated high school. During that time I would have such strong intrusive thought spiral's that I wouldn't be able to move. My brain would tell me that no one I worked with liked me, that I wasn't very good at this job, and that I was making it worse for everyone around me. Again, I'm sure these specific thoughts may seem silly to you, maybe you've had them and have been able to talk yourself out of it, but the spectacular thing about OCD is that there is no talking oneself out of it. It's like someone has set up a tape player in my brain and it's on this endless loop. I can't find the off switch, I can't make it stop. I can only dull it a bit through mostly unhealthy compulsions. The funny part (it's not funny at all actually), is from the outside, I probably just appeared a bit shy. That's thing about mental illness, it works best in secret. 

During the time I worked at the hoagie shop, my mom had been diagnosed with COPD, Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease. Remember in the beginning when I told you about how my intrusive thoughts would tell me my mother was going to die? Well for me, one of the key ways of controlling these thoughts was though grounding myself. I would tell myself, "your mom is alive, she is not sick right now, everyone dies eventually but right now your mother is alive and healthy." I would say it like a mantra over and over again, and eventually it helped to stop those ugly thoughts. When my mom got sick, it was like all that hard work went out the window. This time Google wasn't my friend. Everywhere I looked I read about COPD turning into Lung Cancer. Not to long after, my mom was diagnosed with Lung Cancer, stage 4, and it had already metastasized to her bone and skin. 

Suddenly, my intrusive thoughts weren't lying to me. My mother was indeed going to die, and no amount of healthy or unhealthy compulsions were going to stop it. Being able to rationalize that my thoughts weren't real or true and been my number one coping skill, only now I was unable to do that. For a time, I thought perhaps my thoughts weren't from OCD, but instead maybe it was some other entity trying to tell me the scary things to come. This is called paranoid psychosis, a symptom of my bipolar disorder. Don't worry, I don't actually believe I have a little genie living in my brain telling me the future and what not, at least not anymore. 

From the time my mom was diagnosed, to the time she died was about 2 years. In that short amount go time I was hospitalized 4 times for mental illness, addiction, and attempting to take my own life twice. Trying to control my anxiety had led me to a dependence on narcotics and benzodiazepines, and when that didn't work, I thought ending my life was the only way out. I never set out to become addicted to drugs, I simply wanted to stop the noise in my head. OCD had controlled every last inch of my life it seemed. 

Today, almost 6 years after my mom died, I still struggle with OCD everyday. Instead of intrusive thoughts about my mom, it's moved on to my son. He's 3 now, but when he was baby I would struggle with thoughts of him dying from SIDS, or someone dropping him, or him being harmed in a car accident. I managed those thoughts mostly by practicing safe sleeping conditions, telling someone they couldn't hold him if it just didn't feel right, and being as knowledgeable as I could about car seat safety. It wasn't always easy, and it didn't always work. There were nights I stayed up just staring at him, and times where if he was asleep and I wasn't holding him I would find myself unable to move for fear that something would happen. The idea of people coming over or us going somewhere caused the worst anxiety, and I would make up reasons to not let people hold him. However, as time went on, I was able to manage the thoughts more and more. 

I still have intrusive thoughts today. Sometimes they are quiet, and I can manage them by writing or talking to a friend about it, and sometimes they aren't and I just have to ride it out. That might mean I don't leave the house for a week and my son watches to much TV, but if I'm being honest, it could be worse. I haven't self harmed in over 5 years, and I've been clean just as long, with my last suicide attempt being almost 7 years ago. 

Mental illness thrives in secrecy. Not talking about it, not reaching out for fear of judgement or shame is the reason so many people becomes victims of their own mind. I've been lucky enough to have amazing people in my life, some who struggle with these same issues, who are always there and willing to listen. This will be a life long battle, but I find being open and honest about it, makes that battle less scary. 


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I hope you guys enjoyed this weeks Thursday's Thoughts. I'll be honest, getting this real and putting this much out there was difficult, but ultimately it feels good. Comment below if you struggle with OCD or any other mental illnesses!

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Thanks for reading!
- Fallon xo

**I want to add that if you or someone you know is struggling with mental illness or suicidal thoughts, please reach out and ask for help. The suicide hotline number is 1-800-273-8255 and they are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. You are not alone.