At just 10 years old, I was convinced my parents’ separation was my fault.
The night my mother left my father-turned-stranger, I experienced my first intrusive thought. The volatile screams of a man I once considered my hero became drowned out by the belief that I had been the cause of the broken marriage.
Just days prior, I witnessed my parents arguing in the backyard. To end the fight, I slammed my hand against the glass door. Rookie mistake when you have a father with a rageful gaze.
As the saying goes, I took my licks and moved on. I did distract my dad long enough to forget about the argument, so I’d consider that a win. Despite my victorious efforts then, I failed to stop the two of them from fighting once more a few days later.
Now, a decade and a half later, I find my mind engaging with the same feeling in a different format. As I stare on in horror at my graded English assignment, I think to myself: this is all my fault.
There, on my screen, is a number I had prayed never to see in my higher education journey: 85. Not only did I get a B, but I got a B on an assignment in a class required for my major.
The wave of nausea began. How do I even begin to come back from something like this? What will this look like to other colleges when I transfer? I can’t possibly expect to get into any of my dream schools now. I’ve just gone and messed everything up because I did not apply myself enough.
My brain told me I was a failure, and I believed it.
Obsessive-compulsive disorder, or OCD, is a term I frequently heard growing up but never knew what it truly meant. A classmate of mine would say, “I have to color code my pencils because I’m so OCD.” I’d witness people like Howie Mandel discuss his intense anxiety around germs and think about how debilitating it must be to have to wash your hands until they turned raw.
It wasn’t until I was around 22 years old that I began to comprehend the weight of the term and the role it had already been playing in my life. By that time, I had already experienced countless episodes of the OCD cycle.
From checking my arms for cancerous moles to counting my steps in even numbers only, I was engaging in what are called “compulsions” to quell the anxiety long before I recognized the deeper meaning to these patterns.
OCD is often dubbed a doubting disorder. It latches onto a person’s deepest fears, casting doubt on what is and isn’t real.
To further complicate things, the themes in OCD can and often do evolve. For example, some individuals are terrified of germs earlier in life, then later develop a fear of being diagnosed with a chronic disease.
Sometimes, a complete shift from one theme into the realm of another can occur. Those living with contamination OCD can begin experiencing relationship OCD later on.
For those suffering from the disorder, the people or things they value are also subject to intrusive thoughts. A person living with OCD may love animals but is convinced that they would be a horrible pet owner, causing severe distress and, at times, avoidance of other people’s pets.
For me, it is the need to be perfect. To be anything short of that is simply never an option.
When something goes wrong, then, the intrusive thought goes like this: “If I had just tried a little bit harder, I could have saved my parents’ marriage. If I applied myself more, I could have prevented that wretched B from sneaking its way into the gradebook.”
From there, the compulsions commence and quiet the thought, but the silence can only last for so long before the thought comes back tenfold and the cycle repeats itself. Taking part in compulsive behavior does not bring pleasure for OCD sufferers but rather temporary relief, according to a Mayo Clinic overview on OCD.
Exposure and Response Prevention therapy is considered the gold standard for OCD treatment, and it has taught me that the word “maybe” is my best friend.
Maybe I could have done things differently in various areas of my life, or maybe it doesn’t matter if I could have because the outcome would have likely remained unchanged.
I could tell you that everything in life happens for a reason, but truth be told, children deserve to grow up in a turmoil-free home. Their biggest concern should be what they are going to do for fun when they get home from school instead of looking for ways to shrink themselves.
The reality is that there are defining moments that are out of our control, but what we can control is how we take care of ourselves after the fact.
By minimizing the importance of an intrusive thought, a person can eventually separate their level of self-worth from their negative thinking. In doing so, the process is disrupted before it even has a chance to start.
So, maybe my parents’ separation was my fault. Maybe my B does reflect who I am as a student. But even if I could have altered the timeline like a god rearranging the cosmos, there would always have been something else that needed fixing.
For people like me, the continued practice of embracing uncertainty eventually makes an intrusive thought obsolete. In the world of treating OCD, it is an essential stop on the path toward self-compassion and acceptance.
