Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) Support Group
Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) is a psychiatric disorder, more specifically, an anxiety disorder. OCD is manifested in a variety of forms, but is most commonly characterized by a subject's obsessive (repetitive, distressing, intrusive) thoughts and related compulsions (tasks or rituals) which attempt to neutralize the obsessions.
I've had OCD for 5 and a half years, and I've only known about it for half a year.
I've had a pretty traumatic childhood and even some trauma in my early teens due to bullying but I didn't develop OCD until I was 16. I was terrified that I was sick, I threw up everything I ate in fear of having an illness, I didn't want to go to school. I remember being terrified of leaving my house because of 'germs'.
I even broke down in my mom's arms crying that I just wanted whatever this was to go away. I was tested for parasites, cancer, diabetes, everything under the sun. It wasn't until I was rushed to the hospital that a doctor said I was just suffering from anxiety, and I was going to have to learn to deal with it.
So for two years, I would silently suffer scared of disease and bacteria everywhere I went. And when I was 18, my obsession went from germs and illness to hurting others or myself. The week of my eighteenth was another traumatic moment in my life. My grandfather was put into a comma by a drunk driver three days before my eighteenth birthday. And three days after my birthday, they took him off life support and he died. I was completely terrified of my own brain, of myself. I thought I had schizophrenia, but I was too scared to tell anyone. I thought they were going to wrap me up in a straight jacket, throw me in a mental hospital and I would never see the light of day again.
So I kept it to myself for 3 years, telling myself that I was stronger than this, I was better than this, I would make it through this if I just kept moving forward. But, close to the anniversary of my grandfather's death, I had an awful nervous break down. I couldn't take it anymore. It finally got to the point where I didn't care if I was thrown into a mental hospital, I didn't care if my family hated me, I just didn't want to hurt anyone, I was sick of bearing this burden on my own. So I confessed to my mom, what had been happening.
She called the local mental hospital to get advice and they said for her to take me to evaluated at the local hospital. They evaluated me as non-violent, and put me in contact with a Mobile Outreach Team/Crisis Prevention Team. After a few visits with them, the team introduced me to a brilliant psychiatrist in my state, who would ask me questions about the violent thoughts and after a while determined I was Pure O OCD.
I have now been in therapy for half a year, and I have been on and off Zoloft (because I'm poor so sometimes I can't even afford the generic) and here I am.
I'm curious to hear about other people's stories if you're comfortable talking about it :3
I've had a pretty traumatic childhood and even some trauma in my early teens due to bullying but I didn't develop OCD until I was 16. I was terrified that I was sick, I threw up everything I ate in fear of having an illness, I didn't want to go to school. I remember being terrified of leaving my house because of 'germs'.
I even broke down in my mom's arms crying that I just wanted whatever this was to go away. I was tested for parasites, cancer, diabetes, everything under the sun. It wasn't until I was rushed to the hospital that a doctor said I was just suffering from anxiety, and I was going to have to learn to deal with it.
So for two years, I would silently suffer scared of disease and bacteria everywhere I went. And when I was 18, my obsession went from germs and illness to hurting others or myself. The week of my eighteenth was another traumatic moment in my life. My grandfather was put into a comma by a drunk driver three days before my eighteenth birthday. And three days after my birthday, they took him off life support and he died. I was completely terrified of my own brain, of myself. I thought I had schizophrenia, but I was too scared to tell anyone. I thought they were going to wrap me up in a straight jacket, throw me in a mental hospital and I would never see the light of day again.
So I kept it to myself for 3 years, telling myself that I was stronger than this, I was better than this, I would make it through this if I just kept moving forward. But, close to the anniversary of my grandfather's death, I had an awful nervous break down. I couldn't take it anymore. It finally got to the point where I didn't care if I was thrown into a mental hospital, I didn't care if my family hated me, I just didn't want to hurt anyone, I was sick of bearing this burden on my own. So I confessed to my mom, what had been happening.
She called the local mental hospital to get advice and they said for her to take me to evaluated at the local hospital. They evaluated me as non-violent, and put me in contact with a Mobile Outreach Team/Crisis Prevention Team. After a few visits with them, the team introduced me to a brilliant psychiatrist in my state, who would ask me questions about the violent thoughts and after a while determined I was Pure O OCD.
I have now been in therapy for half a year, and I have been on and off Zoloft (because I'm poor so sometimes I can't even afford the generic) and here I am.
I'm curious to hear about other people's stories if you're comfortable talking about it :3
P.S. I still have trouble praying and I still have to start over all the time, but I have it memorized and if I say it really fast I don't get as many intusive thoughts, making me have to start over. I've got it down to under five minutes. Yay, progress. Lol.
Thanks again for sharing :3 I almost cried reading your story.
Finally senior year of high school, I broke down and decided to get help. I was hospitalized for wo weeks which was the most traumatic two weeks of my life as my father told the doctors I was nothing but a punk with behavioral problems and I was treated as a lowlife and abused by the doctors as a result. I was actually told in the hospital that I was indeed sick and troubled which just sent me over the top as they diagnosed me with dysthymia and behavioral problems.
It wasn't until I got out of the hospital and saw a councelor without my abusive fathers knowledge that I was told that I had textbook OCD and that if it wasn't obvious to the doctors in the hospital, they must have not had a clue as to what they were doing. My therapist was literally baffled beyond belief that it was not so obvious to them as I had such severe OCD. So, it wasn't until I was 18 till I learned what was wrong with me, but I had HUGE symptoms ever since I was a very young kid. I remember a time in the third grade where I would only eat liquids for two weeks as I was so afraid of choking. I also used to search my bed for hours looking for bugs and parasites as a kid. I still to this day am angry at my parents for being so blind.
It really puts things into perspective reflecting on this...