By: Ellie Simmers | Editor-in-Chief
Whenever I tell someone I have obsessive-compulsive disorder, the response I typically get is one of shock, as I don’t fit the idea of OCD they have in their head.
I’m not a particularly neat person, I typically don’t mind when things aren’t symmetrical and I’m not a germaphobe.
While these are all valid and real symptoms of OCD, they have become stagnant representations of the disorder as a whole.
According to the International OCD Foundation, one in 40 adults have OCD or will develop it at some point in their lives. In the United States, that equates to around 8 million people, which is roughly the population of New York City.
As that one in 40, it took me until this year to be formally diagnosed with OCD. This wasn’t because I didn’t have the disorder or didn’t experience obsessions and compulsions. It was purely because I didn’t truly know what OCD was.
OCD is a mental disorder that occurs when someone gets stuck in a cycle of obsessions and compulsions.
Obsessions are impulses, images and thoughts that occur over and over again, often making the person feel out of control of their own mind. Compulsions, on the other hand, are the repetitive behaviors or thoughts that are used to try to neutralize those obsessions.
For me, most of my obsessions and compulsions occurred within my head, making it invisible to those around me and hard for me to understand what was happening in my mind.
As media depictions of OCD almost exclusively focus on visible, physical rituals like handwashing or organizing, I had no idea that my constant rumination, mental reviewing and mental checking were, in fact, compulsions.
Having OCD is hard enough, as each day is a battle between giving into your compulsions and sitting with your discomfort, but when the general understanding of the disorder is completely distorted, you end up either exhausted or convincing yourself that your suffering must not be real, since it does not match the societal image.
This misunderstanding runs so deep that it even creeps into professional settings. I’ve been to doctors who have told me how lucky I am to have OCD because of how organized I must be.
It’s hard to feel lucky when your brain is constantly working against you, and it feels like every aspect of society, including the medical field, is too.
When OCD is used as a punchline or a way to describe liking things neat and organized, it keeps people from recognizing their own symptoms, possibly delaying life-changing diagnoses and support for years.
OCD is hard and exhausting, but it does not have to be shameful or something to carry alone. This week is OCD Awareness Week, and while I am painfully aware of it every week, I hope we can expand our understanding of this complex, heavy condition. The more we speak openly about the true reality of obsessions and compulsions, the closer we get to a world where no one has to suffer in silence, searching for answers in their own head.
For more information and resources about OCD, visit the International OCD Foundation
public relations major from Broadway, Va. She is an avid reader, enjoys thrifting, writing, and keeping up with politics. After graduation, Ellie hopes to attend graduate school and earn her degree in Library Science
