OCD is not about having control, it’s about being utterly out of control to halt the relentless juggernaut thundering through your mind. We are not shiny, happy ‘neat freaks’ who spend our lives arranging canned foods into alphabetical order. Instead you are more likely to find us curled in the foetal position, desperately fighting horrendous, distressing thoughts while our houses fall into disarray around us.
OCD is not a desirable personality trait. ‘Oh, I’m soooooo OCD’ is probably the one phrase most likely to push the big red button in my head marked ‘nuclear.’ It demonstrates a staggering lack of understanding about one of the most common and traumatic mental illnesses there is. OCD destroys lives. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, yet some ignorantly choose to wear it like some kind of quirky badge of honour.
OCD is not optional. You’re either OCD or you’re not. Saying you are a ‘little bit OCD’ is like saying you have a little bit of cancer. Would anyone in their right mind even consider uttering such nonsense about cancer? Yet so many come out with equally ridiculous comments about a crippling mental illness which the World Health Organisation recognises as one of the most prevalent and debilitating on the planet today.
OCD is not funny. If I see another comedy OCD meme I swear I will not be responsible for my actions. What’s so funny about a life of medication and counselling? What’s so funny about being utterly convinced you are a peadophile, murderer, the worst human being in the history of bad human beings? If the lives of your loved ones hinged on tortuous physical and mental routines that blight every second of your waking life? Fun times indeed.
My name is Stephen and I have OCD. It is none of the above.