“OCD,” often casually used as a buzzword, is in reality one of the most life-changing struggles someone can face. Looking back to my early childhood, I recall needing to touch objects twice with both hands, and always trying to put on my shoes with both feet at the exact same time. If I didn’t, I felt off. I didn’t think much about this behavior then, just blaming it on one of my ‘quirks.’
Fast forward to 2018/2019: I was doing work experience in a nursery/preschool when there was a chickenpox outbreak. Having never had chickenpox as a child, I contracted it at 18 while working at the nursery. I spent a few weeks at home recovering, isolating myself from my family, which made me anxious, panicking that I’d contaminate my siblings (who also never had chickenpox). When it was time to return to my daily life, leaving my bed felt extremely difficult. I felt immensely terrified walking outside, wrapping my arms around myself as if to prevent the outside world from contaminating me.
My first intrusive thought was that certain chairs at the college were contaminated, my mind creating scary images of me getting sick if I sat on them. I carried three or four bottles of hand sanitiser and would empty them by the end of the day. I remember my tutors joking with each other about how they knew it was me if they smelled sanitiser in the corridor. August 2019 is when things worsened. It felt like my whole world flipped, and I was living in a new, unpleasant reality, with OCD having a full grip on me. I became a shell of my former self; the carefree me became scared and robotic. My main fear was germs and contamination. Anything and everything would trigger me, and the feeling of germs felt real on my skin, at worst leading me to nearly cutting off my own thumb. Thankfully, I didn’t go through with it, instead wrapping my ‘contaminated’ thumb in bandages. I spent hours washing myself until it felt right, vivid images taking over my mind.
How it Affected Me and My Relationships:
It drastically changed my life. I avoided eating certain foods, or eating at all, because I was scared of getting sick, which led to rapid weight loss. I’d stay in bed from morning to evening to avoid the tiring rituals I felt I had to do. This greatly impacted my mood. I felt depressed and saw no way out. My parents and siblings became increasingly worried about me and felt helpless, not knowing how to help. I avoided cuddling my baby brother and family members, which hurt a lot, but I couldn’t help it. I knew I didn’t want to be like this, but I couldn’t stop. Now it’s 2025, and I am on the road to managing my OCD, trying to relearn everything that OCD took away from me. I’m grateful for the patience and care my family gave me. I have allowed myself to receive cuddles from my family members and have slowly distanced myself from compulsions. However, every day isn’t perfect, but I tell myself that I am trying, and that is enough.
Recovery is never linear, and every setback isn’t a failure. Managing it is possible.”