The intrusive thoughts started at age 14.
They initially consisted of "taboo thoughts", especially thoughts of harming others. Horrific images flashed through my mind, and no amount of wincing or internal denial would make them go away. I was terrified that I would abuse someone—that I already had abused someone. Around the same time, compulsive handwashing would become an overt manifestation of my internal turmoil; when I developed chronically bloody knuckles, my parents took notice. My mother purchased a book about OCD at which time I began to realize that my compulsive behaviors and unwanted thoughts proceeded from a common source. My symptoms worsened in my early college years, and when I sought therapy, my symptoms were met with incredulous stares from practitioners who did not understand my condition. I started taking an SSRI and experienced immediate relief; it felt as if a permanent solution had been achieved. But my symptoms gradually worsened until, at the age of 30, I finally underwent Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP) therapy with an OCD specialist.
In college, I was hesitant to take a course in philosophy; I was afraid that drudging up "unanswered questions" would gnaw at me. At my mother's behest, I took a class, and I promptly caught the bug. Little did I know that philosophy would become a therapeutic adjunct for my OCD. Philosophical study is constant exposure to uncertainty and disagreement over matters of great importance. If you cannot tolerate doubt, good luck carving out a career in philosophy. I went on to pursue my PhD in philosophy, specializing in epistemology. Upon graduation, I promptly left academia to pursue a career in data analytics—a career transition that is surprisingly common as humanities education in the U.S. continues to diminish.
I grew up Evangelical and remained Christian as an adult, but in grad school, the Papists got the best of me. I determined that, as an OCD sufferer, I simply don't feel guilty enough; I should convert to Catholicism for good measure. While I joke about my conversion, it has been both a source of great joy and a prime target for my OCD. It can be challenging to navigate OCD treatment as a person of faith, especially when catechetical resources are scant and clerical understanding is limited, but I take necessary comfort in the belief that my suffering is redeemable, and I know of no other way to live.
I am now 34 years old, and life has become far more challenging than I ever thought it would be. I've experienced several breakdowns, two of which led me to the hospital. My dominant OCD themes are religious scrupulosity, moral scrupulosity, and responsibility for harm, but it's easier for me to count the themes I haven't experienced than the themes I have experienced. In recent months, I have come to better appreciate the maladaptive habits I have nurtured, the covert obsessions I have retained, the do-it-yourself medication management I have pursued, and the "deep down" resistance to relinquishing control and accepting risk that have perpetuated my struggle.
This blog is an expression of my renewed commitment to recovery. I am the primary audience. I am neither a clinician nor a theologian, and nothing in this blog is intended as clinical or spiritual advice. That some may take my words for clinical or spiritual advice gives me anxiety. Additionally, much of what I write is inspired by or paraphrases of others' books, blogs, or wise words, with my tireless wife as a primary source. Not all of these sources will be cited, and that also gives me anxiety. In other words, this blog is an extended exposure exercise.
To allow me to write freely about my condition and focus on recovery, this blog will be anonymous for now.