World OCD Day is October 10, and so much advocacy has to be done!
Our world has created a society that thinks Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder is just aligning all the pencils into a straight line, or everything has to match or else. It isn’t linear, and everyone’s journey with OCD is different. In our culture, “I’m so OCD” has become a common way to describe a quirk or habit people have rather than a mental illness itself. So, I am sharing my story not only for World Mental Health Week, but OCD Week as well.
Mental illness began very early on for me, settling in, and making its home in my mind at the tender age of nine years old. I remember it vividly. The depression, hitting me like a ton of bricks. Sure, I went to school like any regular kid would do. But when I came home, I would do my homework, and then I would proceed to lay in bed and sleep, or even better, hide behind the couch and cry, where nobody could find me.
Sure, it most likely stemmed from me learning of my father’s diagnosis of AIDS, and as time went on, my parent’s got me to a psychiatrist, who put me on all the wrong medications, of which my parents then proceeded to pull me off of.
Then my OCD began to come ’round and play. Those days were always so much fun. That was sarcasm, if you couldn’t tell.
I live with Purely Obsessional OCD, amongst other things, but these intrusive thoughts, thoughts that are fleeting for the typical human mind, play about over, and over and over in my head, like a broken record that won’t stop playing, and I can’t reach the record player to make it stop. Luckily, my psychiatrist and I have been working together for a long time, trying to find what works and what doesn’t for me, and after about 10 years, we found that delicate balance of what medications work and their dosages.
Imagine once I became a mom. These said thoughts got worse and worse, and couple that OCD with post-partum depression, and I was a holy mess. I was scared that I was a bad mom, like I didn’t deserve this beautiful child that I had. The OCD began to skyrocket, and I was a total mess. It took another few years to get a good balance of medication to calm it down.
Am I totally over-the-moon-blissfully-ecstatic happy everyday? No, of course not. But I think that at this point in my life, there is a really good balance of good days, with the exception of the occasional bad day, and I have a wonderful support system in my family and boyfriend. But I need those bad days in order to reflect on how good it is, and how much better it is getting. Those bad days are important because I can look back on them and realize that I’ve continued to push through the bad days.But I definitely believe in my heart that OCD needs more advocacy, the especially break the stigma surrounding it! I do all that I can to help with that, including doing the virtual “1 Million Steps 4 OCD” campaign. If you would like to make a donation to my team, that would be wonderful. Even sharing this post helps spread awareness!
Do you have a story that you want to share? Postpartum depression, OCD, Bipolar Disorder, and more, we welcome everyone’s story. Please click here if you would like to submit yours!