Is there life after OCD? It certainly doesn't seem so at the time, but
this true story is here to give hope to those whose lives are taken over by
obsessive behavior.....
A Young Man's Story
At the time of writing, I am fourteen years of age, and can confidently say that
I’ve been through the dissatisfaction (to say the least) of a form of Obsessive
Compulsive Behavioral Disorder (OCBD). The reason I say this with relief is
that I am getting over it - something I could never have thought of just a
fortnight ago. OCBD is a psychological annoyance which combines a number of
dis-benefits. I speak from my personal experience in the following pages, and the
knowledge I have gathered along the way.
I live in the UK, and have for some years had an ‘obsessive
behavior’
continuously going backwards and forwards. For example, I might be walking down
the street, and I felt as if I had to got back. I would type on the keyboard and
delete it and retype it. People noticed this, particularly my Mum, who offered to help, she tried to help,
she ‘threatened’ to take me to the doctors. But would I listen? No. I felt as if
I could overcome the problem on my own. So why did I do it? Well, at the time of
me getting this problem, it was because I felt that bad would happen if I didn’t
go back. Silly looking back on it now. I can laugh it off. But the evolving
problem was, to my ignorance, to get intolerably worse. I didn’t want to see a
doctor, as you wouldn’t think there was particularly much wrong yourself, would
you? It seemed just like a bad habit.
About a year ago, the problem, after dying down a little, worsened and worsened
to the extent that, about a month ago, I felt so fed up, depressed and bad with
the problem that I couldn’t go into town, I couldn’t go out, and even getting
out of bed was a hassle. At this point, the problem had evolved to me having
bad, and unwanted thoughts (not like schizophrenia, or however it is spelled. I
had them obsessively, but they were ‘mine’). At one time, I felt as if I had to
tell my Mum these thoughts to be truthful to her, but as I realized that I could
cope with this, the problem worsened. I now felt as if I had to go through the
numerical combinations of these thoughts to my mother, and as though I was
making other people go through them by doing things, and so I felt I had to tell
her them. So the problem got to the peak where I felt as though when I though
the word ‘everything’ (which might have implemented going through the
combinations) I had to go back to the physical position I was in when I said
this, and adjoin the words ‘to do with nothing’ to this. Stupid. Until you’re
experiencing the problem yourself.
So, at about a month ago, you’re saying, “what did I do?”? Well, I agreed to see
the G.P., who referred me onto a specialist. Long wait, but I got to see her.
Funny looking lady - big glasses, sat in weird positions - but not half as weird
as the students sat by her, I tell you! The good that came out of that one
session was a recommendation for the prescription of Prozac. To tell you the
truth, I was scared of taking the syrup. A long list of side affects - basically
including aches, pains, tiredness, sickness, heart failure, etc.. - were warned
of, but none arrived particularly. A fortnight on, I can agree that Prozac is
something of a wonder drug. Others say it, too; it’s partially designed to stop
OCD - which came to my surprise. Prozac stops or encourages the dispersion of
chemicals in the brain, something which gives me the idea that adolescence has
something to do with my case. I’m 14, you see.
Now I can look back at the problem and say that it could have made me a
stronger, more understanding personality, but I’m new to taking the drug and all
I can say so far is that it’s worked. I can cycle to town, type freely; they all
sound easy, but when you have this problem, you understand it’s an achievement
of recovery - the road to which I am now on.
A Mother's Story - One Year On
x was off Prozac a month later, but miraculously the problem
still seemed much under control. Looking back I can say that x's OCD
was probably one of the worst periods of his and his family's life. It
affected every one of us in one way or another and I can sincerely sympathize
with anyone trying to cope with this problem.
I've added this bit on to offer encouragement and hope for
anyone else with OCD. At the time it seems as though it will go on
forever, and the light at the end of the tunnel is not even visible. But it CAN improve. I wouldn't say
x doesn't
have problems even now, but he seems to be coping with them the best way he can.
We have long periods of 'normal' behavior and at the moment his social life has
never been better, it has improved a thousand-fold. He still does
odd things (for want of a better word), but they don't seem to bother him
as much. I think his breakthrough came, not with Prozac but the
counseling that he was given and the important step he took of writing his
story (above).
Three Years On
(Touch wood) I'm happy to report that we survived what can
only be described as a living nightmare and three years on x is a
well-adjusted 17 year old who is studying A levels and learning to drive.
He has found his niche in life and I have every confidence that he will be
extremely successful in the future. If anyone reading this account is
living with someone with OCD then please be assured, it CAN be overcome.
Maybe not completely but certainly to the point where life seems more bearable.
I still think that the counseling helped far more than any drugs could have ever
done but I know from experience that this condition affects the whole family in
one way or another and that at the time you think things will never improve.
Well, they do.
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