Ever since I started talking about my OCD the effect has been cathartic. I’ve felt less isolated and I started to feel like I was controlling my mental health as opposed to it controlling me. Equally, by not hiding my mental health or making excuses for things such as the regular hand washing and cleaning, or the reoccurring scars on my arms from constant picking, I’ve allowed myself to “come out” more than once to people who had no idea what real OCD was, let alone that I have it.
But, what comes with talking about it a lot more is the constant reminder that you have it. You would have thought that by talking about why I’m washing my hands again I would eventually teach myself to stop washing my hands as much – seeing as I was aware of it – but this is not the case.
I have OCD, and there is nothing I can do to stop it from being there. I am allowed good days where I haven’t felt the constant niggles, but it will always remain – no matter what I do. I’ve now learnt that fighting it just makes it ten times worse.
This is my OCD