TRIGGER WARNING: Talks of suicide and depression. Reader discretion is advised.
“Hey Universe, Did You Forget About Me?”
You know when you're watching a horror movie and you have that feeling of dread and feeling like you're on the edge of your seat, anxiously waiting for the demon or the killer to pop up on the screen suddenly? That nervous anticipation for the jumpscare? That's what it's like to have OCD! And that's even when you may not be doing anything, you could just be sitting down on your phone, trying to chill out and yet you're feeling like something bad and scary is about to happen . . . And I hate horror movies so just imagine how much I hate constantly feeling like this! 😂
OCD is its own horror movie. With jumpscares, plot twists, and victims you feel sorry for but at the same time are screaming at them saying, "Don't go back there!", and with an antagonist that could put some of the best movie villains to shame. One of the worst and scariest times I've had with OCD was meant to be one of those milestones in life where you're supposed to feel proud of yourself and celebrate such an achievement. In 2021, I was able to move out on my own and live in my own flat, this was something that I've looked forward to and imagined happening since I was a kid! But it became one of my worst nightmares . . .
Like with most horror movies, everything started well - moving into my own flat with my own new furniture, it was great! I felt like I was becoming a proper adult (is there such a thing? 😂) and that I was back on track with my life after quitting university and living in a flat that was in such bad condition, it made me very ill with my mental health and caused me to have to buy all my stuff from new. I was excited to be able to do the things that I hadn't been able to do in a long time! Like reading the new books that I got, playing my Xbox on my TV in my living room, and cooking and eating what I wanted! But as time went on and all of the excitement and hustle and bustle of moving died down, I started to notice that something was off. Now instead of it being a haunted object leftover from the previous tenants or some creaky floorboards (been there!), I noticed that my flat, which was supposed to be my home, wasn't turning out the way that I wanted. Now baring in my mind that during the move, I was still ill and suffering from my OCD and wasn't sure but was hopeful that having my own space and being in charge of everything would help my mental health and help the OCD to quieten down (spoiler alert, it didn’t - it did the exact opposite!), I noticed that my flat would get so dusty after only a couple of hours and that's not an exaggeration! If I left something out, within a couple of hours it would have a layer of dust over it that would make you think it had been left out for days or weeks! I cleaned my flat every morning and by the evening it was covered and looked like it hadn't been done at all! I researched ways to get rid of dust and prevent it from getting worse. I bought air purifiers, looked into buying specific plants that help reduce dust, and I got cloths specifically tailored to getting rid of dust. Nothing worked. Every day was just a ton of dust on everything and this caused my OCD to have a field day with contamination obsessions. Now, I know that dust may not sound like a big deal or as much of a problem as it became for me but as someone who has a condition that has obsessions with cleanliness and hygiene, it started to become and make my life tricky and would soon prevent me from being able to do anything. I started to really struggle with keeping up with everything and my OCD started to latch onto the presence of the dust and started making everything difficult from going to the bathroom, walking around the flat, cooking, and even sitting down. I struggled to leave the flat because of my OCD making me believe that the door handles were dirty due to the dust and the fact that it led to the outside, this inability in being able to leave the flat had become a common problem for me at my previous place but I had hoped that it would get better once I had moved.
I started to go downhill with my health and wasn't able to cope so my amazing Mum, after a full day at work, would go shopping for me, bring that over, clean it down, and put it away for me as well as clean the flat for me because I couldn't handle it or wrap my head around it anymore. I had become so ill and unable to cope with everything that when it was coming up to Christmas of 2021, I was seriously considering having to spend the holidays alone in my flat because I was so scared and was so unsure if I was going to be able to make it out and get to my Mum's place for the day. This broke my heart and really made me hate myself and my brain for ruining my favourite holiday for me - I didn’t want to spend Christmas alone, I wanted to see my niece and have fun with my family! Luckily, my Mum and I were able to create a plan to get me out and to clean myself down at the end of the day - around this time we discovered the Carex Hand Sanitizer Sprays and my God, they were a lifesaver! My OCD wasn't fully satisfied that it would "properly make me clean" but I did what I learned in therapy and used the spray and cleaned myself down anyway.
With Christmas over and the New Year in swing, I started to spiral. My Mum was still coming up every day with my shopping and to clean my flat (I had to get bits in every day because I would get through so much cleaning stuff, soaps, gloves everything and I couldn't do a big shop myself because of my OCD and the inability to leave the flat), but everything started to go to hell. As is my constant reminder but if you know someone who has OCD please know that they don't want to do their compulsions but feel like they have to due to the fear that something bad could happen! We know our fears are irrational but the OCD makes us believe that the threat is real so we do the compulsions.
During this time, I could only go to the bathroom twice a day, this was because I couldn't wear clothes to go to the bathroom because my OCD made me believe that they would get dirty and I wouldn’t be able to clean them, and I couldn’t take them off and then put them back on afterward because my OCD told me that they were “dirty”. This meant that the only times I could go to the toilet were in the morning and evening when getting changed for the day or for bed. This, therefore, meant that I couldn't drink much during the day as I wouldn't be able to go to the bathroom if I needed to. This had become my norm but in February of 2022, this would be a dream.
In February 2022, I became severely ill with my OCD. I wasn't able to work, leave the flat, I stayed in bed all day, I could only go to the bathroom once a day, get changed once a day (I lived in pyjamas and just changed out of them into clean ones after using the bathroom), I couldn't shower, it would take anywhere from 4 - 8 hours for me to go to the bathroom and get dressed. I would be constantly cleaning myself down with sanitizer spray and washing my hands and arms with soap and water, I couldn't walk around my flat anymore because my OCD told me that I couldn't because of all the dust, telling me that it was unsafe so when I did walk round, I would move super slowly. My OCD even affected the way I breathed because it made me believe that since I breathed through my nose if anything fell out and landed on my hands, I would have to wash them (which let me tell you, took ages! 😂) so I had to change the way I breathed. I would eat the same microwaveable meals on rotation (because I couldn’t go out into the kitchen and touch or cook anything) and I could only have 2 drinks a day, I never saw daylight apart from when I was going to bed as I couldn't get up during the day because the night routine would use up all of the cleaning stuff that I needed and all of my time so I had to wait for my Mum to come up after work with more supplies. Since my Mum does shift work she would come up at different times of the day, the best times would be late morning to early afternoon but a lot of the time it was typically nighttime and early hours of the morning, which made things difficult for me because I would have to sleep all day so as to decrease the need for the bathroom (and to catch up on sleep missed because of my OCD) but I’m grateful for everything she has done and continues to do for me. As it took me so long to get ready and I had to move so slowly around my flat (not including if I had to re-clean and redo everything if something went wrong!), I wasn't having dinner until anywhere between 3 am - 7 am and then I would go to bed.
I had referred myself over for therapy so I could get help but to do that I had to go through my GP for a referral because I was too severe, and was still needing help when I was discharged from therapy the previous time, that the regular therapy centre wouldn't take me on. I needed psychiatric help, not just psychological.
I had become so ill from my OCD that I didn't think I was going to make it out alive. My depression had skyrocketed and I had become extremely suicidal. My Mum would become so worried when she came up every day because she didn't think I would be there, she didn't know what she would walk in on. I wanted this pain to end, this feeling of complete and utter lack of control and ability to decide what I could do. Every time I thought I had finished my routine of going to the bathroom and getting dressed, and that I was able to sit down and eat something for the first time that day at 5 am just to have my brain tell me that something went wrong or I walked too fast so I needed to clean myself down again was a nightmare - a real-life horror movie! I felt so frustrated and like I was a robot for my OCD. I wasn't living, I was just carrying out the compulsions that my OCD made me do, I was nothing but a vessel for my OCD. I would wish every time that I went to bed and closed my eyes that I would stop breathing during the night. I wanted to die.
I didn't think I was going to make it out, my OCD was killing me and if I did make it out, I didn’t think it would be alive. My Mum got me out though, we both decided that I needed to leave that flat soon otherwise I wouldn't make it. So one morning, after a late finish from work, my Mum picked me up at 1 am and packed a lot of my stuff up for me, got me into her car and at 4 am she took me to her flat to live. When I got out of my previous flat and sat in the car waiting for my Mum and my stuff, I started crying because I realised that I had actually made it out, I was alive. I didn't think I would make it, I didn’t think it would happen.
I'm doing much better now than when I was in that flat. I can walk more comfortably around now, my breathing is more normal, and I've even changed my hand-washing routine so I'm not using as much soap nor am I taking as long! I feel safer.
However, I'm still struggling, my OCD is still making life difficult for me. I can't leave the flat without extreme difficulty, I can still only go to the toilet comfortably once a day, I still excessively wash my hands and arms as well as clean myself down using hand sanitizer and sanitizer spray, I get changed using gloves so I don't have to do more hand-washing. It can still take me about 3/4 hours (8 - 12 hours on a bad day) to get changed every day so I only get changed once a day otherwise I would be spending my whole time doing the same routine, stuck in an endless loop. I still struggle to cook and do things like household chores, I can't hug my Mum, and if she comes too near to me, I get so scared because of my OCD telling me that she’s dirty! I can barely touch anything without extreme difficulty. My Mum helps me out a lot and I'm incredibly grateful for her every day! I'm in therapy now, the referral finally went through and I just about made it through the waiting list!
Like any good horror movie, there have been a ton of emotions felt throughout my experience of having OCD - defeat, anxiety, and anger. I've felt extreme levels of guilt by how much pain and pressure I go through but also what my Mum has to go through, she has to watch her youngest daughter in pain and in a constant battle with her own brain when I've not always had to, where I’m normally a rational person but the illness has taken that away from me. I feel guilty about how much money has to be spent on buying soap, gloves, and cleaning supplies. I feel angry at my OCD for causing me so much pain and for losing so much of myself and my life to this illness, anger at the health care system because no one seems to be able to help and how the waiting periods to see a professional to get help takes too long! Anger that after 4 bouts of therapy, 10 years of having this diagnosis, and the amount of pain and suffering I've gone through and I'm still suffering, I'm still ill! I feel grief for what could've been with my late teens and early 20s had I not been so ill, how different my life could've been and where I would be now if I wasn't stuck with a torturous brain. I will never forgive my OCD for what it's done to me and for what it's taken from me, it didn't make me "stronger", it made me want to die.
This illness has taken so much from me, time, energy, patience, mental stability, and the ability to choose to do what I want when I want. I mean, I can't even go to the toilet when I like or hug my own mother because my brain tells me I can't! I just want a break, I want to get better and to actually live because I'm barely existing. The effects that my illness has on my relationships from having to be dependent on someone when all my life I've been the exact opposite and the strain and change of treatment from family members who don't understand or don't want to understand that I'm ill, that I have an illness, is humiliating and saddening. Mainly though, OCD has taken my life from me, from basic bodily autonomy to feeling comfortable in my own living areas, and I want it back, I need it back, I can't keep going on like this. OCD makes you believe that it's helping you but it takes more than it gives. This illness has left me wondering, “Hey Universe, Did You Forget About Me?”
I hope you never feel this way or if you do or have felt this way, know that you're not alone and that you deserve help. I hope something good happens to you really soon! If you have any questions or want to share your tips and experiences then please feel free to comment below or message me on Instagram! 💜
A new post will be out next Monday where I'll be talking about how OCD is treated in therapy and my experiences with treatment as well as my recovery plans! Don’t forget to follow me on Instagram at @heyuniverseblog for more content and updates on new posts!
Sending hope, kindness, and good vibes!
Emily 🌌
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