Beyond this, I thought it important to inject the perspective of the ‘mental health’ patient.  How many people can relate to this?:

Most of my neurological difficulties were diagnosed far too late in life, despite seeing ‘professionals’ numerous times before; I was given a cocktail of drugs that seemed to cause more harm than good; when I complained about the side effects, there was a serious lack of support or understanding; when I finally saw a proper therapist whom I felt I could speak to freely, I was informed after a year that the NHS could no longer fund my talking therapy and I would have to go it on my own…even though at long last it seemed I had stumbled on what I was really looking for all those years: a safe place to let out all my frustrations about problems I cannot cure.

To take another example: when I was pregnant a few years ago, I experienced extreme ante-natal depression.  I regularly felt suicidal and would definitely consider myself to have been ‘at risk’, as they say.  Yet my NHS referral to be seen by a therapist took so long that I didn’t get the call until I’d already had the baby and my symptoms had eased up!

What’s even more frustrating is that I’m originally American, so my medical stories cross oceans and nationalities – it seems that no matter which country, there was little care being offered.

I don’t want to trash every doctor out there, because, as I stated, I did manage to see a very good therapist in the end, who showed me the support and understanding I so desperately needed.  She was a great relief to me, and I will always be grateful to her.  But I was limited in my sessions with her.  In America, the insurance companies do the same – it’s a miracle I got to see this doctor for as long as I did, so I suppose that’s one thing the NHS almost did right…but it’s still not good enough.

I realise the governments don’t have enough money to facilitate every aspect of our nations, but the priorities seem to be so wrong.  We lose money on education and health care, yet we spend it on wars the country vehemently protests – and we’re meant to believe we live in a democracy.  Furthermore, as the Standard rightly notes, soldiers are coming back from these wars with post-traumatic stress disorder, and we don’t have the facilities to give them the care they deserve.

I urge you to write to your MP (or congressman) and speak your mind about this gross atrocity. Perhaps it’s time to remind them that, ironically, they could do with getting their heads checked.

Vrinda Pendred, Editor & Founder of Conditional Publications

Like what you see?  Subscribe to our blog so you don’t miss out

I can’t answer the metaphysical side to that question, but I can tell you it seems more than likely it’s genetic.  Maybe your parents don’t have OCD, but they might have some other related condition.  Or perhaps it shows up in other branches of the family – a cousin or a grandparent.  There are many neurological disorders that connect and overlap with OCD, and they may all be part of one umbrella condition.  The results are still out on this.

One modern controversial theory is called PANDAS: paediatric autoimmune neuropsychiatric disorders associated with streptococcal infections.  The theory goes: strep cells are so similar to neural cells that sometimes our body produces faulty antibodies that attack our own nervous system, rather than the strep infection we’ve contracted.  Our T-cells are meant to seek out and destroy these faulty antibodies, but in our case these T-cells fail to work.  They have treated many children with drugs to combat strep infection and have seem PANDAS symptoms (tics, anxiety, autistic tendencies) fade or even vanish.  They have also recently injected lab mice with strep and seen them develop tics and anxiety.  So there seems some weight to the theory – however, it is far from conclusive.

There are also a lot of theories relating to brain structure, but I couldn’t possibly explain these properly.  The only thing anyone can agree on (for the most part) is that it appears to be genetic.

However, even though it seems biological in nature, there is also a lot to be said for environmental influences.  For instance, many of my obsessions sprang from my experiences.  I was abused as a child and, as a result, I developed a worry that someone would creep into my room in the night and attack me.  As a compulsion, I decided as long as I always kept the blankets over my ears in bed, no one could hurt me.  This helped me feel safe enough to sleep, until the following night when the fear would return and I would have to act on my compulsions again.  Identifying the root of this obsession made it lose a lot of its power, so that one day I found I could finally sleep with my ears exposed.

Another point to mention is that statistics show that people with OCD are actually the LEAST likely to harm others or themselves.  We may continually bring up mental visions of violence and destruction, but the whole key is that this is an anxiety disorder.  These visions are SO abhorrent to us, we are actually incapable of dealing with them, and so we feel the need to invent coping methods, no matter how bizarre or extreme they may be.  We are hypersensitive people, and yet ironically we believe we’re potential murderers and abusers and suicides.

I believe it’s important to bear all this in mind as we fight back against OCD.  Understanding the roots gives us strength.  Always remember: you are being afflicted with these worries because you are actually such a good person, you can’t stand the thought of hurting anyone.  You are riddled with fears because perhaps you are trying to cope with a deeper-rooted problem, and when you identify the problem maybe you will realise the compulsion is unnecessary and the obsession can fade away.

Next time, I’m going to provide the lyrics to an especially relevant song – so be sure to subscribe to the blog.

Vrinda Pendred, Editor & Founder of Conditional Publications

Click below to order Check Mates, the first ever collection of fiction poetry and artwork about OCD

amazon.com amazon.co.uk amazon.ca

So Freddy Krueger is a terrible monster with blades for fingers, who visits you in your sleep and kills you in vividly gruesome ways.  Not just that but he even laughs and jokes about it, as he does it.  And some of the audience think it’s pretty funny, too.

Freddy is a classic example of the irrational fears that can strike us all.  And just as the children learn in those films…the only way to kill that fear is to stand up to it.  It gets off on hurting us, and many people around you won’t understand why it’s so horrible for you.  Some may even tease you for it and think it’s all a big joke.  It’s all down to you to stand up for yourself.

The key is always to remember that these thoughts we have are just that: thoughts.  They can’t do anything to us.  We are the ones who give them all their power.  It is up to us to say, ‘You’re nothing.  You’re not real.  You don’t scare me.’  Only then will they give up and leave us alone.  In the movies, this is called becoming a ‘dream warrior’.

OCD is a terrifying experience.  Many of us have awful violent thoughts, gruesome enough to rival the movies.  Many are so afraid of these thoughts, afraid they might carry out these visions, that they can’t leave the house or be around people.  Many are dropping out of life because the fear is devouring them.

Don’t let this fear win.  It’s a horrible monster made of your own fantasy, undead and not quite human, and it wants to destroy you.  But it’s NOT REAL.  It’s time we all start to learn this and believe it.  It’s time we took back our lives and started fighting back.  It may have power but, like the ‘dream warriors’, we have power too.  We can make that fear afraid.

Next time, I’ll discuss some of the ideas surrounding the roots of OCD, so please remember to subscribe to the feed.

Vrinda Pendred, Editor & Founder of Conditional Publications

Click below to order Check Mates, the first ever collection of fiction poetry and artwork about OCD

amazon.com amazon.co.uk amazon.ca

The truth is, in my experience it is far easier to tackle more physical obsessions – checking, washing, etc. – than the overbearing thoughts.

For instance, I nearly ruined my Degree when I was in my third year of university, all because one day I was reading a Frederick Douglas story about a mouse that was shot up into space and I suddenly thought, ‘That poor mouse, he was just living his life and then bam!  It was over, without warning or understanding of what had happened.’  That was it – I literally did not sleep for the next 5 days, screwed up a paper I was meant to write, and I spent the next several months interrogating anyone I spoke to about their views on the afterlife.  Every time the lights went out at night, I could not get my mind to shut up with thoughts of death.  It drove a chill right through me, sent me into panic attacks, forced me into tears and terror.

There have been many such kinds of thoughts (referred to as ‘obsessive ruminations’ in the psychology world) – particularly after my son was born a few years ago.  He was so helpless and I was so overcome by my new godlike responsibilities, I became panic-stricken that I might accidentally hurt him, to the point where eventually I was convinced I would hurt him, that perhaps the obsession would drive me to hurt him, just to make the thoughts go away.  I felt incapable of looking after him safely and wished he were older and more self-reliant.  Now, looking back, I regret how little I savoured his baby time.  It will never come back.

So how do we get past these thoughts?  It’s all about fear exposure.  In my time with a therapist, and in all the books I’ve read on the subject, it seems the general consensus is to do bizarre ‘numbing’ exercises, such as writing out your worst fears in all their gory detail – then recording yourself reading it aloud and playing back the recording again and again until you stop reacting to it emotionally.

I scoffed at this when my therapist first suggested it, 10 years ago.  However, I’ve wound up doing just as she described, without even realising I was doing it.  I happen to be a huge Stephen King fan, and he always says in his introductions that he writes out all his worst fears.  He’s admirable in that he never seems to shy away from the most awful details of these fears.  Instead, he draws them out vividly and some of them are literally painful to read.  Anyone who’s ever tried to get through ‘Pet Sematary’ or his short story ‘The Ledge’ must know what I mean here.

To take ‘Pet Sematary’ as an example: this is a book that centres on the death of a child, and the parental desperation to get that child back.  The pivotal moment in the book was one of the hardest things I have ever gotten through.  I struggled and I cried all the way – and I don’t mean just cried, I mean bawled almost hysterically for about 40 pages, and then kept replaying it in my head over and over for the next few weeks and bawling then, too.

And you know what the craziest thing was?  I GOT OVER IT.  Eventually I reached a point where the emotion wore off enough for me to remember…it’s JUST A THOUGHT.  It’s not real!  And thinking about it will NOT MAKE IT COME TRUE.

It’s basic fear exposure, when you get down to it.  How you choose to do it is up to you.  Again, I would recommend reading a book such as ‘Brain Lock’ or ‘Overcoming Obsessive Thoughts’ before you tackle this, and it would be helpful to have some kind of outside support (friend, family, OCD survivor) – but now you know the basic principal behind the method.

Next time, I’m going to talk about fear and the power of the mind, so be sure to subscribe to the blog so you don’t miss it.

Click below to order Check Mates, the first ever collection of fiction poetry and artwork about OCD

amazon.com amazon.co.uk amazon.ca

First, a little background information.  CBT is used not just for OCD or anxiety, but also depression.  In clinical studies, CBT has been shown to be just as effective as drugs (when they work) – except the results are longer lasting.  Why?  Because drugs treat symptoms but not the root of the problem, whereas CBT is all about changing how you think about things.

The basic principal behind OCD CBT is that while we believe our compulsions are going to ease the pain of the obsessions, the truth is: they’re FEEDING the obsessions.  The more we act on these compulsions, the more we reinforce the original anxiety/doubt/worry.  We’re essentially telling our fears that we believe they are very real and need to be dealt with – and this gives them power.

So, to take a personal example, I used to worry I hadn’t switched on my alarm clock before I went to bed and that I’d oversleep and be late for school.  If I managed to believe I’d switched it on, then I’d worry I’d set it for the wrong time.  This meant a seemingly endless ritual of checking and rechecking the alarm settings – then worrying that in the process of checking, I’d somehow accidentally changed the settings – and so on and so forth.

The trick was simply to NOT CHECK – and pardon my split infinitive there, but in this case ‘NOT CHECK’ really is the complete verb.  I feel a need to say this in order to emphasise the point: it is all about NOT CHECKING.

It has been proven, time and time again, that just at the point when you’ve resisted checking so long that you feel like you’re going to collapse from anxiety…right at the peak, if we were to plot anxiety on a graph…gradually that anxiety will start to drop, drop, drop – until it’s GONE.

Trust me.  I didn’t believe it either, but I’ve felt it happen so many times, you just have to trust my experience.  And if you want to CHECK…why not try it yourself?

But a word of caution: START SMALL!!  These anxieties are so overpowering, it would be dangerous to start with your biggest worries.  So don’t plunge right into the deep end and try to combat your ‘I’m terrified I might throw myself in front of a car’ fears.  For now, just concentrate on the little things – like my alarm clock issues.

Another note to add is that I won’t pretend CBT cures OCD.  The whole point of this condition is that it is medical and lifelong, with no known cure.  But does it provide tools with which to fight each new obsession as it comes along and make things manageable?  In my experience, yes, absolutely.

If you need any help or want to ask any questions, I (Vrinda) am happy to assist, as I really believe in CBT but know it’s a long, hard journey doing it alone.  Just click the ‘Contact’ tab at the top of the website.

If you would like a book to help you go through CBT and learn about it in more detail, check out ‘Brain Lock’ or ‘Overcoming Obsessive Thoughts’.

If you haven’t already, then be sure to subscribe to this blog to learn more insider experiences and information.

Vrinda Pendred

Editor & Founder of Conditional Publications

Click below to order Check Mates, the first ever collection of fiction poetry and artwork about OCD

amazon.com amazon.co.uk amazon.ca

I was diagnosed with OCD when I was 13, but on reflection I can see the symptoms stretching right back to at least 5 years old.  I also have Tourette Syndrome (among other things), which I have read means chances are my obsessions are much more violent – and this is definitely the case.

I tried medications when I was 13-17, but they just made things worse for me.  I know everyone is different and reacts in a variety of ways to these drugs, but from all the people I’ve spoken to and all the books I’ve read…to quote The Verve, ‘the drugs don’t work’.  Perhaps for a minority of people they have effect – and I truly am glad for them.  OCD is no easy thing to deal with.  For the rest of us, the drug route can be painful and frustrating.

And for those of you who DO find help with medication, I would strongly urge you to try CBT anyway.  Use the drugs as a way of giving you the strength you need to start learning how to fight this battle – and perhaps one day you’ll be able to wean yourself off the medication and deal with these issues all on your own.

In recent years I have been known to tell people off if they try to offer me encouragement about some of my conditions.  I once told my husband I thought he ought to be prepared for the very real possibility that one day he may need to care for me quite a lot, because I may be quite crippled from my Tourette’s in old age.  He said he didn’t want me to think that negatively, and I understand where he was coming from.  I’m sure it was upsetting to hear me speak that way.  But I explained to him that I didn’t want the empty optimism anymore.  I had reached a point in life where I felt (and still feel, regarding Tourette’s at least) it’s best I just start accepting my lot and learning how to deal with it.

In short: the emotional rollercoaster of ‘yes, perhaps this at last will work’ and ‘it didn’t work, nothing works, why oh why is this my life?’ had worn me down.

But I DID receive help for the OCD!  I went through a year of Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy when I was 17, after I’d quit the last of the drugs.  I took the techniques taught to me by my therapist and put them into practise over the years.  Now, 10 years later, these skills have become second nature to me.  Perhaps I can’t conquer every problem that afflicts me…but who in the world can??  The important thing is: I regained control over this element of my life – and that has been enough to keep me going forward.

In the next blog, I will teach you how to apply CBT in your own life – so be sure to subscribe to our feed!

Vrinda Pendred

Editor & Founder of Conditional Publications

Click below to order Check Mates, the first ever collection of fiction poetry and artwork about OCD

amazon.com amazon.co.uk amazon.ca

The best day of my life was the morning I woke up, having taken medication for my symptoms for the first time the night before.  For the past year, I had awakened and instantly burst into tears upon recognizing I hadn’t died in my sleep.  That morning, I woke up, shut off my alarm clock, and made it all the way downstairs before I realized I didn’t mind being alive.  For the first time, I wondered if things just might get a little better.

I have been on 7 medications in various combinations and doses.  I have contamination fears and cleansing rituals, compulsive checking, intrusive images that appear in front of me, and voices in my head.  Medication doesn’t cure a mental health patient, but it helps clear my head, so I can focus on working to make myself better.  It’s exhausting and terrifying work, but I know someday I’ll leave my house and show myself as me, and not through the lens of a diagnosis.

When I work through therapy, I have a mantra that helps me through it.  I repeat to myself, “I will not die under a diagnosis.”  When I’m finally done living, hopefully to a ripe old age, I want to die having lived at least one day in perfect freedom.  I can’t wait for that day when OCD will be a distant memory, and I know if I keep working, I’ll get there.  But for now, there are exactly 300 words in this text.

‘Kristen’

Click below to order Check Mates, the first ever collection of fiction poetry and artwork about OCD

amazon.com amazon.co.uk amazon.ca

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

Click below to order Check Mates now

amazon.com amazon.co.uk amazon.ca

As the title suggests, OCD is made up of two parts: obsessions and compulsions.  Obsessions really mean doubts, worries, that little niggling ‘what if?’ at the back of all our minds.  What if the house catches on fire because I left that toaster plugged in?  What if I didn’t wash my hands properly and I end up with a horrible disease?  What if I didn’t lock the door and someone walks in on me in the toilet?

This is the sort of thing that gets published in the media.  What doesn’t get talked about so much are the really scary worries. What if I lost my memory? What if I hit that person?  What if I just started screaming right now and didn’t stop?  What if I hurt my child?  What if I jumped in front of that car?  What if I went insane?  What if the next time I go to sleep, I don’t wake up?

And then there are the more abstract, seemingly pointless worries.  Did I count the number of words in that sentence accurately?  Is that stack of books straight enough?  Have I organised all my CDs perfectly alphabetically?

Everyone is struck by obsessions as different points in their lives.  It is an illness to which no one is immune.  When it becomes a problem is when it starts to overtake other aspects of life, and suddenly all that seems important is the obsessions.

Compulsions are what we do, then, to counteract these obsessions.  If we’re afraid we might set the house on fire, we will check all electrical items are unplugged every time we leave the room.  If we’re scared of germs, we wash too often and too hard.  If we worry about amnesia, we spend all our time writing out journal accounts of even the most mundane points in our days.  If we’re terrified we might hurt our children, we pass care responsibilities over to someone else.  We realign, we clean, we check, we count, we struggle.

If none of this works, we try superstitions, such as tapping our fingers together three times as a way of warding off the evil we feel quite certain is to come, as a result of not completing the rituals we have become enslaved to.

This is the reality of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.  It’s not a joke.  It’s irrational and paranoid.  It’s time-consuming and life-destroying.  It’s disempowering.

But there IS hope.  There IS a way to take back some of that control and live again.  As someone who has lived all her life with OCD, I know what I’m talking about.

Vrinda Pendred
Editor & Founder of Conditional Publications

Click below to order Check Mates, the first ever collection of fiction poetry and artwork about OCD

amazon.com amazon.co.uk amazon.ca

You can also listen to further episodes of the show with this player: