Hi, I’m Ridwan and I have OCD
Disclaimer: This is my story and everyone’s experience with OCD or any other mental health condition will be different. The objective is to share my side in hopes that you feel that you’re not alone and maybe one day, you are encouraged to share your story with the world.
I’ve been wanting to share this for some time, but I wasn’t sure how to go about it. I figured writing an article sharing my feelings may be the best way. I’m not sure who is reading this but please, read with an open mind as it is already difficult for many of us to share our inner thoughts and feelings, and I am no different. We all have daily challenges which have been exacerbated by the pandemic or whatever else we may be going through and this is a glimpse into my journey. Its intention isn’t to be a sob story but A) to express what I’ve been holding in so I feel better. My mental health is my responsibility and no one else’s. I would love everyone’s support but I am responsible for taking action, and B) to let others know that they’re not alone and I hope one day you will feel comfortable sharing your story.
Alright now that that’s out of the way, phew, let’s begin.
I can remember my OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) since I was a child. I remember organizing all of my toys into rows and columns, folding my clothes and putting them onto the shelves, etc. Mind you, I was less than 10 years old at this point. It was just something in me. So far, this is starting off innocent and cute, great start!
Then as I grew older and my daily anxiety increased (OCD falls underneath the umbrella of Anxiety), and things started taking a more drastic turn. I started washing my hands more, like I felt there were germs everywhere, LIKE EVERYWHERE! This may still seem fairly “Okay, it’s not that bad” of a moment, and honestly, I didn’t think it was either, at the time. It felt like it was just a part of my routine: go inside the bathroom, do my business, wash my hands. HOWEVER, now I couldn’t touch anything else with those washed hands so then I’d put my elbows together to turn off the faucet and open the door knob. Thank goodness I didn’t feel the need to wash my elbows or else then we’d be in a doozy. Har-har-har…it’s a joke don’t worry.
I continued this throughout high school and then things got really interesting in college, that’s when the fun began. The OCD decided to finally infiltrate into the mother land, my thoughts.
I’m sure people might be sitting there thinking “Yeah, I have unwanted thoughts all the time, it’s not a big deal.” So with someone with OCD, it’s harder because we can’t let it go. Like we become (as the condition states) OBSESSED with that thought that we literally can’t let it go. It’s like the thought has taken over like Venom.
It’s like you have something else taking over your mind, and the more you focus on that thought the more it takes over. You let it define you — you let it take over your mental energy. It dictates everything you do throughout the day. You can have unwanted and ruminating thoughts about your feelings for someone, your sexual orientation, if you want to hurt someone, if someone is talking about you; the list goes on and on. And yes, these thoughts can get graphic. To the point where, you sit there and you question your character. You try your best to let go of these thoughts but you can’t — you just can’t because you’re in too deep. And then the worst part is, if these thoughts come to fruition then what, what do you do then? Now you’re really in for it, now it’s over — now it’s escaped your head and made it into the physical world, and that’s the fear we live in. What if I do do something that I regret? Again, I’m sure you may be sitting there suggesting “It’s just a thought, just let it go” Again, not easy. Not in the slightest.
During this journey, I’ve met individuals who are afraid to go outside of their own room because they believe they will be infected with germs and die. This fear is so strong that they confine themselves to their room and will not leave. When I heard their stories, it hit me like a ton of bricks. These thoughts have taken over so much that they cannot even get on with their daily lives. They are a prisoner of their own mind with no sentencing date. It feels like eternity.
I remember those days — I remember feeling like I couldn’t get past the current day. I remember all of that. I remember thinking “Man, let me just get through today, please.” You do everything in your power just to survive. You pray, you talk to your partner, you exercise, you go to the beach, but nothing, nothing gets you out of that — that prison. The worst part is, you feel like people don’t understand because especially, you don’t even understand so how can you expect anyone else to? Remember at the beginning of this I had said one’s mental health is one’s responsibility, well again this was mine.
You feel like a toddler again, not being able to articulate what you want to communicate. But at this point you’re an adult and you still can’t do it which seems so much more debilitating. You’re basically at a loss of what to do. Your anxiety at this point has heightened, which means more food for your OCD to feed off of and keep going. You feel like there’s no way out, and your stuck …
Then one day, you’ve fallen into this black hole and you feel like there’s no escape. You think “Man, is this it? Am I going to end this?”, and previously you thought your mind couldn’t go to a darker place but man, were you wrong. If you were in a mental prison before now you’re just in sheer darkness with literally no hope.
I definitely remember specific days where I contemplated suicide. It’s hard for me to convey how that feels, but for me there were multiple times where I had said “I’m going to kill myself”
- It was for attention. Yes, as twisted as this may sound it is a thing and I’m sure many have felt that. Regardless, this isn’t good.
- You’re actually contemplating it and wondering if this was it.
I can say, with 100% certainty, the second, at least for myself, was significantly worse. At least for the first, there was that glimmer of “I’m not going to do this. I just really need attention right now because I’m going batshit crazy, and I don’t feel heard, and I’m acting out, and I don’t know what to do.” The ladder — man, I can’t even begin to describe to you how that was. I felt myself slipping…
I honestly felt like it was the end.
However I made it, and I’m still here today.
I am still taking it day by day and continuing to work on my mental health. One thing to keep in mind, it is a marathon not a sprint, and some days will be better than others. The days where I’m down, I try to focusing on what I need and what will be best for me. The days I’m up, I try to take advantage of it and do as much as I can. Does it always work out that way? No, but I’m trying — always trying to climb up.
I hope this encourages anyone reading this to take their mental health more seriously and to give that kid inside some extra TLC when they need it. Also, I hope you will support me while I continue my journey because honestly — that would be a nice feeling to have; to feel supported, and of course I will support you as well.
Thanks for taking the time out of your day to read this. I really appreciate every single one of you. Much love to you all ❤
