My Life Struggle Story with My OCD Diagnosis

Maisoon Basry, an OCD Survivor, shares with us her story on how OCD controlled her life from a young age in different forms and shapes, and how she managed to have a life around it.

Please note: Reading this could trigger the anxiety of OCD Sufferers, read with caution.

I’m a 26 years old Egyptian-Muslim girl. I’ve been struggling with mental illness since I was 7 years old, so it’s been 19 years of daily suffering in silence.

I am diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). OCD is defined by OCD-UK as a serious anxiety-related condition where a person experiences frequent intrusive and unwelcome obsessional thoughts, often followed by repetitive compulsions, impulses, or urges. The illness affects 1.2% of the population, from young children to adults, regardless of gender, social, and cultural background. The World Health Organization (WHO) once ranked OCD in the top ten of the most disabling illnesses of any kind, in terms of lost earnings and diminished quality of life.

Childhood

When I was only 7 years old, I had my first form of religious OCD (scrupulosity). The intrusive thoughts that occupied my mind varied from constant insults to God to negative images of God and my religion, which freaked me out. It made me think I was a sinful girl going to hell for having those thoughts, so I ran to my mother telling her my thoughts. She was shocked and couldn’t realize what was happening to me, she did her best to calm me down by hugging me and reading me some Qur’an verses. My OCD left me feeling guilty and I was ashamed to expose my thoughts again to my mother, so as a child I had to suffer in silence believing that no one could ever understand what I was living in my head.

Teen years

When I was 14 years old, I had my second and worst attack of severe religious OCD. The intrusive obsessive thoughts included questioning the presence of God and Islam, and doubting all my beliefs. I had obsessive thoughts about numbers, that odd numbers are evil ones & even numbers are the good ones. I was silently repeating some words and verses from Quran, and repeating numbers to manage my anxiety. I felt like my world turned upside down. I was 100 % sure that my thoughts are irrational and that I truly believed in God & was committed to my religion, but my thoughts were out of control. It was so exhausting and I kept blaming myself for having such thoughts in my mind.

I had long sleepless nights and was mentally and physically drained. I performed my prayers committedly, repeating them in the same pattern and in the same number of times, thinking that if I wasn’t doing each of the prayers perfectly, I was going to hell. I wished to die and thought about ending my life several times since I was already going to hell, but I strongly believed that God would help me get through that infliction.

My family couldn’t realize that I had a psychiatric illness & I don’t blame them for that, I blame the society that made people so ignorant about mental health issues. I stayed trapped in my own head. My parents encouraged me through my high school years even though all I wanted was to drop out from my agony. I was rewriting my studies over and over again in specific even numbers just to perfect it.

University years

My OCD manifested itself again in new types with countless, unbearable obsessions and compulsions such as Religious Intrusive Thoughts: this included going up & down the stairs several times thinking that If I didn’t do so, I’d go to hell. Imagining devil on my food so I had to change it or not eat at all. Images of the word “devil” on my prayer rug so I had to repeat the prayer and verses over & over again till my head got injured from pounding it on the floor. Images of the word God on the sofa or the chair so I had to stand up and sit down. Clicking on door knobs & water faucet. Images of the word “devil” on my hand so as a compulsion I had to wash my hands and arms. Avoid walking on specific things or I’d be sinful.

Harm intrusive thoughts: I would count specific numbers obsessively, and would be convinced that if I didn’t, something terrible would happen to my family. If I wore dark colors it’d bring bad luck to me or a death of a family relative, believing that any bad thought in my head will make a horrible disaster to my beloved ones. The problem was if my thoughts coincided with the death of a family member, I’d spend endless days thinking it was my fault because of my bad thoughts.

Symmetry thoughts: This was linked to religious thoughts, like putting all things in my room or home in the right direction because the left direction is evil.

Obsessive checking: I’d be checking the house lights and switching them on & off the lights as I was afraid the house may get burned. Checking door locks, windows, and stove knobs.

Contamination: This included fear of visiting hospitals, using a public toilet, touching public doorknobs, dirty surfaces, using public telephones which made me avoid so many places, and if I had to go to them I’d be very anxious. Fear of getting an illness only by reading about it etc.

Mental contamination: It’s also linked to religious thoughts, I’d imagine the word “devil” on my body and would change my clothes and wash my hands & arms for a long time else I’d go to hell.

Sensorimotor OCD: this included focusing on how many times I blink or breathe for example and imagining visual distractions.

Moral obsessions(rightness & wrongness) in every conduct of my daily life.

The list of my intrusive thoughts & compulsions goes on. They made me mentally & physically exhausted, they made me spend long painful hours doing the compulsions to decrease my anxiety and get a temporary relief. My sister observed my compulsions & thought that I was either crazy or I was haunted by evil spirits. I went through depression, psychological breakdowns, insomnia, mood swings & panic attacks. I pretended to be strong in front of everyone, while I was falling apart inside. Those who know me think that I’m a funny girl as I was forced to show only that part of my personality. Sometimes when I was depressed, I was called a depressive, over-sensitive girl, acting like a drama queen and that I should get over whatever problems I had.

Discovering the diagnosis

I remained silent, afraid, and ashamed. I thought if I told anyone about my irrational thoughts, they’d call me crazy & judge me. And then one day, I found by coincidence on TV a psychiatrist talking about symptoms similar to my obsessions. I searched a lot on the internet & I found out that I wasn’t insane, I was a girl with a psychiatric disorder. I was glad that there were many ways & treatments to help reduce the obsessions and manage this life-consuming disorder. I decided to tell a friend about my story. He did everything to help me, encouraging me to get a proper help & visit a psychiatrist. He motivated me a lot, and he understood & respected my pain. I went to a psychiatrist who had put me through several medications which helped reduce the symptoms of OCD. Despite the effectiveness of the medications, they had terrible side effects, most importantly, weight gain. The weight gain didn’t affect me negatively till I started hearing silly and judgmental comments from my friends & relatives about my sudden weight gain, so I stopped going to social or family gatherings for a long time and I totally lost my self-confidence. Finally, in spite of my mental hardship, I graduated from my university with an excellent grade.

Workplace

I worked in a bank for almost two years. I was happy for getting a job & being a financially independent woman, but I was working in a toxic environment which triggered my symptoms of OCD & anxiety. Despite the salary and the medical insurance I had, I quit my job after several breakdowns and definitely before having secured a new job. It took me many months after resignation to be fine again.

Recovery

I’ve been visiting a psychiatrist for 8 years, and have been on medications ever since. I’ve recently started CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy) which help me control the compulsions. I think if only there were an early awareness of mental health issues, I wouldn’t have had to suffer silently alone almost my whole life. My big brother supported me a lot and without him and my family, I wouldn’t be the way I am now. My mom is my superhero through this journey as she does everything to help me conquer my illness. My psychiatrist & my CBT doctors treat me like a friend. Their sessions give me the push to fight my illness stronger. I realize that recovery is an ongoing process, but I will keep fighting.

My message

This whole painful experience and distressing nightmare of mental illness have made me determined to be an effective part of a better awareness on mental health issues, to help many individuals who silently suffer like me, and to encourage them by sharing my story & contribute to ending the stigma and discrimination of mental illness. We need to make more efforts to educate sufferers, families, and friends with mental health issues and correct the misconceptions and stereotypes of mental illnesses. Mental disorders are invisible but they’re as real as any physical disorders. We need to help thousands of people suffering and rescue them from potential suicide risks. Sufferers with mental illnesses need to be heard and understood. We need to live not just survive.

P.S. If you’re facing any sort of mental health issue problems, please refer to this post for suggestions on how to get help.