Oh Cee Dee

How it feels to me and why it sucks and also why I hate it

TW // suicidal ideation

I figured for my first post on this site, I’d talk about a really, really fun topic that I really, really love talking about: my brain. More specifically, what’s wrong with it, or at least what I’ve been told is wrong with it.

OCD. That’s the very easy answer. OCD stands for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and it sucks so fucking badly that it almost comes around to rocking. But it never does. It just sucks.

I grew up watching Monk on the ol’ USA Network. Great show, really good cast, the classic USA Network dramedy formula that served them well for so long. It was a fun show about a quirky detective who notably has OCD. His form of OCD had to do with germs and cleanliness and things being just so.

I don’t have that kind of OCD. I’m messy and don’t really care all that much about germs and whatnot. But the beautiful, horrible thing about OCD is it comes in a lot of funky flavors. I don’t have that flavor of OCD, but the flavor I have is also a good time.

Not to make this solely about cable television shows but that’s often how I relate things or relate to people. There was a show called Preacher on AMC - based on a comic - and in this show, Hell is depicted as re-living the worst moment of your life over and over and over and over and over again. On a loop. Forever.

I’m not going to say that living with OCD, in any way, is similar to the literal concept of Hell. It’s not. I experience joy and I laugh a lot and there’s so much I love about my life and life in general, despite how dramatic I can get. But I bring up that example of Hell as a way of describing how my OCD works.

I essentially obsess over everything bad or weird or awkward I’ve ever said or done in my life. On repeat. It could’ve just happened, it could’ve happened a week ago, it could’ve happened years ago. I re-live these moments or these things I’ve said or done in the center of my brain to the point where it’s all I can think about and it’s paralyzing. I repeat it in my head, I point out to myself where I was wrong, and instead of working to learn and move on from it, I simply hit Play again and it starts over.

Nothing even really has to trigger these loops; it can just come out of absolutely nowhere, at any time, for no reason at all. I could be playing a game on the computer, and a random memory or thought will cannonball into my head and that’s it. Day ruined. That’s what I’m thinking about that day.

I was diagnosed with OCD in January 2018, which I can definitively say was the lowest point of my life. I hated myself, I hated everything I’d ever done, and to be perfectly honest - and this is something I’ve told very few people - I didn’t want to be here anymore. I wrote my parents a letter, put it on the kitchen table, drank some Nyquil, and went to sleep. I’m lucky enough to have unbelievably supportive parents, so we started the steps to try to deal with whatever I was dealing with.

I had my first appointment later that week. My doctor diagnosed me with OCD within a few minutes. I went to him a few times a week and started taking medication. It wasn’t a simple solve; neither of these steps I took instantly resolved what I was feeling, and nothing ever will. But through months and now years of work, I’m able to let go of things - eventually. Sort of. They may pop back up, and I have to deal with them when they do, but I’ve learned ways of doing this.

A little about medication. I’ve gone through a lot of different combos of medication, because from what I’ve learned, it’s a process. It’s sort of like a vision test: is this better or worse? But it’s trying to analyze the thing that does the analyzing over at least a few months, so it presents some difficulties.

It’s hard to describe any mental illness without seeming like you’re asking for sympathy or attention.

That sucks and should change.

I’m not saying anything groundbreaking here. I’m not saying anything that hasn’t been said before. I just try to be as open as possible about my mental health, especially with the people I talk to the most. Sometimes I feel like a burden, or like I’m just complaining. But then I think back to January 2018 and wonder what would’ve been had I not reached out.

Things aren’t perfect now, I won’t lie. I basically create my own anxiety, which is just about the worst superpower I could think of. But I’m learning about the tools and techniques to deal with the days where, in the words of Limp Bizkit, “Everything is fucked/Everybody sucks!”

I wrote this in case you’re dealing with something similar, or are just having a bad day, or want to understand something that you didn’t know much about. Again, I certainly don’t know everything about the subject of OCD or mental health in general. I just know about my experiences and my thoughts. And I’m hoping this can help someone feel a little better or a little less alone. This shit sucks - and it can really suck - but you can fight it. And I’ll fight it with you, tooth and nail, inch by inch. We can push it back together.