I first realised I had OCD when I was 18. Like a lot of people, it was the stress of A levels that brought it on. At first I just didn’t understand what it was – was a schizophrenic, manic depressive or what? Intrusive thoughts just kept bombarding me about a range of issues. I guess at first I just got depressed – why me? Not only has I lost my father at a young age, had to deal with being gay and now I had some of disorder coming on just at the end of my A levels!
Thankfully I was studying psychology A level and realised it may be OCD. After much persuasion from my mum I called OCD Action and a wise lady suggested that I tell someone at my Sixth Form College about it. Then, the wonderful deputy head, Ms Carpenter, helped me through the storm of exams and I also got extra time by getting my GP to write a medical note to the exams officer. I would advise any students with OCD to do this – colleges and universities have to include mental health problems under disability provision.
So I got through the exams, but now what? Like many, I had a lovely GP but he couldn’t do anything about the long waiting list for CBT. So, I had to opt out of going to Uni. despite my A grades whilst I waited for treatment. In the meantime I did everything I thought might help – came out to everyone, got a boyfriend, got drunk, tried counselling and even paid £300 for a wacky weekend healing workshop!
Eventually, my OCD just got worse and worse. I just went to work and felt like a walking zombie and then came home and slept to escape it all. My mum was a star at this point, persuading me to go to work and so were friends I made through OCD Action. I suppose feeling sorry for yourself never gets you anywhere and so I decided that if the mountain wasn’t coming to Mohammed, Mohammed would have to go to the mountain:
I wrote to my Community Mental Health team, asked for a community psychiatric nurse, complained to the director and chairperson of the lack of provision and after some battles got referred to see a specialist in OCD. I realise those of you reading this may be disgusted at the extent you have to go to get help, but it often is a case of he who shouts loudest. You also have to keep in mind that people generally do want to help but we all know what it’s like to have financial constraints!
After getting on the right medication at the right dose and having some CBT with an excellent therapist I got on the road to recovery. The medication helped me to see the thought traps I was getting into and allowed me to do the ERP. But like I said, getting back to living was part of the therapy. I had to set things to do each day and make sure I stuck to them. First it was simple things such as taking the dog for a walk, then it was built up to volunteering and eventually back to work (I was signed off for three months at my worst).
Then there was a sort of vacuum, I was kicking OCD’s arse but was not where I wanted to be in life. So then the bigger goals came – helping other people with OCD, moving to London and going to University.
So here I am now, recovered. And whilst I still have the thoughts they just don’t matter anymore – and anyway even if they get worse, I have the techniques to deal with them.! As you may have expected, life is not all roses. The University I wanted to go to insisted on my doing an Access course which meant another year before University but what the hell – another year as a student! I often think back to a saying I read somewhere that ‘it’s not your circumstances that determine the quality of your life, but how you deal with them.’
- OCD Guest Blogger 2 -
