I first learned the term ‘OCD’ in my early teens when browsing the problem page of a women’s magazine. Initially I was shocked to discover my behaviour had a name and I was not the only person in the world who thought of things as contaminated, requiring careful cleansing to make them feel safe. I reacted by hiding the magazine, embarrassed in case my mum might read it and fearful she might decide I was ill instead of bad.  Such was the stigma of mental disease at that time, especially in my family (my uncle had schizophrenia, but this was sold to us as ‘mentally handicapped’), that it was preferable to think of myself as unlovable and evil rather than unwell and treatable. OCD was my secret shame, discussed by my parents in whispers behind my back.

I was finally given an official diagnosis in my 20s, by which time my thought processes were so deeply ingrained that I regarded any suggestion to treat me as an attack on my personal beliefs and an attempt to destroy my very soul. OCD had become my bedrock; the stimulus for my successes, the salve for my failures. Perhaps it is unsurprising, therefore, that later attempts to treat me with CBT met with a brick wall and I viewed medication as a personal insult.

For nearly 40 years it has had a daily impact on my life and has in some way affected every choice I have ever made. Sometimes it has inspired the confidence to be myself, go my own way and hang the world; sometimes it has robbed me of my heart’s desires, most recently in causing the break-up with my fiancé.

It frequently torments my dreams with petrifying images of taps running dry as I try to wash my hands, or strings of elastic exuding from my eyes and limbs, literally tying me in knots as I try to escape some unnamed fear.

For all that, I would not now be without it. It is part of who I am. Yet, if I could have my time again, I would wish to be treated early and educated about it so I would know not to embrace the obsessions as if they were doctrine, and have the courage to fight the compulsions, to live and be free.

Rose Gardener, author of ‘A Cautionary Tale’, ‘The OCD Ogre’ and ‘There Are No Monsters Under This Child’s Bed’, as featured in ‘Check Mates: A Collection of Fiction, Poetry and Artwork about Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, by People with OCD’ –  – available on Amazon and Amazon Kindle

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