Podcast Episode 3. OCD: What It Is, What It Isn’t.

BY Heren Song (a pseudonym) | May 1, 2024 | Student Essay Awards

An Angry Youth Production

Angry Youth is a podcast series for the misunderstood, underrepresented, and disillusioned people of society. So-called “taboo topics” like workplace sexism, mental illness, and hush-hush cover-ups of razed and forgotten Chinatowns are discussed without reservation, but with great respect. However, make no mistake: Angry Youth is also a podcast full of hope. By shining light on our struggles, Angry Youth aims to inspire action and empathy in each other. This podcast was created for AFRICAM 159, Shakespeare in Harlem, an Art of Writing seminar.

Episode description: Maybe you know someone who was a germaphobe before it was cool. Maybe you know someone who needs to eat carrot sticks in threes. Maybe you know someone who says, “I’m so OCD!” as an adjective or quirk of personality, sometimes with a smile. Either way, OCD is a misunderstood condition, one that the host of Angry Youth themselves struggle with. In this episode, we will be discussing how OCD has intersected with sexuality, mental health struggles, as well as personal and professional development in the host’s life*.

Before I dive into this episode, I want to provide a content warning regarding disordered eating and dysfunctional families.

*

[Background sounds of sneezing, sniffling, tissues being pulled, etc.] It’s allergy season. The person in front of me blinks. Their face twitches and I lean backwards, pretending to stretch. They settle back down and I mentally sigh in relief.

[rushed voice] But then it all happens in seconds. Their eyes close and their mouth widens. It’s DEFCON 1 and all forces are activated. Suddenly—The Sneeze. Snot and spit invade my personal space. Next thing I know, it’s Sneeze’s beloved accomplice—the Cough. I feel a gust of bacteria-filled wind rush up my nose.

[rushed voice continues] I can hear war drums beating in the distance, and I conjure an epic rebuke to neutralize this public safety threat—

But instead, [slow voice] I plaster on a bland, robotic smile. “Bless you.”

[normal voice] Unless someone catches me grabbing paper towels to turn off the faucet or using my sleeve to open doors, my germaphobia is mostly unnoticeable. There’s a reason for that. My germaphobia has not only given me a fear of germs, but a fear that people would think of me as intolerant or unreasonable, and become uncomfortable because of me. Thus, I grin but cringe inside through handshakes and hugs to avoid potential negative, confused reactions.

Sacrificing my comfort to prevent the discomfort of others became so deeply ingrained that I didn’t realize I hid other parts of me for the same reason.

What you just heard was the beginning of my personal statement for my Common App application to 20 different universities. The essay ended with me talking about how I had overcome my fear, learning how to tell someone, “Bless you, and please cover your mouth.” But that’s not entirely true. Conflicts both external and internal get readily wrapped up in bright bows to force a contrived happy ending for college admissions, but real life is infinitely more complex.

My CommonApp essay is from over 4 years ago. Most people who read it before I turned it in, such as the college counselor, either winced because of the possibility of it being tone-deaf due to COVID, or smiled because it was a quirky essay.

“Quirky.” That’s the word I’m going to latch onto. Because that’s often what OCD is believed to be, often used by people to enhance their personality that could only become truly interesting if they tacked a mental illness onto it. I should be grateful, except for the fact that there’s a pretty clear line between quirkiness and inconvenience—the latter of which OCD usually manifests itself to be. For me, and the witness, the receiver. 

[MUSIC]

I’m your host. Looking back on this essay, I view it as a written record of my burgeoning conscious awareness for behaviors, thoughts, and actions that I now recognize are symptoms of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. In spring 2023, 3 years after I wrote this essay, I was formally diagnosed by a licensed mental health professional. More specifically—and I will explain this later—I lean more towards the O, “obsession”, side of OCD, which usually means having intrusive, unwanted thoughts like the constant fear of germs or that you lost/forgot something. But I definitely struggle with C, “compulsions”, as well, which are repetitive behaviors like constantly washing and sanitizing my hands until my skin rips off to self-soothe. 

This episode today is not necessarily to encourage anyone to seek a diagnosis, and especially not to self-diagnose. I personally sought diagnosis because I wanted an answer and diagnosis could help expedite my insurance requests. And sometimes, there is comfort in labels. I wanted to join some online communities that I didn’t feel qualified to join unless I knew exactly what I was, and that I don’t merely have some traits of OCD because we all have traits of something, but that I truly have OCD. 

Again, sometimes, there is comfort in labels.

[TRANSITION MUSIC]

What do you think of when you think of OCD? Someone who eats carrot sticks by threes, someone who is afraid of germs? All can be true.

OCD, as we all know, stands for Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. According to the Mayo Clinic, “Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) features a pattern of unwanted thoughts and fears known as obsessions. These obsessions lead you to do repetitive behaviors, also called compulsions. These obsessions and compulsions get in the way of daily activities and cause a lot of distress” (Mayo Clinic). Sometimes, people are more on the obsessive side than the compulsive side, but you can fluctuate. Either way, no matter which side you favor for the moment (or if you don’t favor anything), it’s still often deeply troubling and distressing.

So, you might be wondering: how do you get rid of distress? Mayo Clinic continues to say, “Ultimately, you feel driven to do compulsive acts to ease your stress. Even if you try to ignore or get rid of bothersome thoughts or urges, they keep coming back. This leads you to act based on ritual. This is the vicious cycle of OCD.”

I’ve given lots of examples of the OCD I have. But what does it look like to be in my head? It’s an endless cacophony of noise. It’s not just when I go into public either that the noise and anxieties start. I don’t feel particularly good in my own home sometimes because of OCD. And who I’m with matters a lot too. I hate sharing my phone with others. I’m almost creepily watching people.

Did they touch their feet? Did they touch their nose? Did they touch the table at the restaurant we ate at? But I have to be polite and let them touch my phone. I can’t exactly go, “I saw you touch your feet so you can’t use my phone.” I don’t want to make people feel bad or like I’m watching their every move. I already struggle with my own issues surrounding cleanliness and constant monitoring of what I’m touching or breathing in. I don’t want to pass that struggle onto others. At least, not excessively.

Let me give you an example of a fun day out with my partner, and all of the thoughts I’m having, and how our interactions go.

It’s the weekend, and we consider taking public transportation to the restaurant. I think about standing on the bus because I don’t want to sit on the seats that other people have sat on. However, I’m a little tired. So I decide to sit down anyway. I make a mental note that I have two choices when it comes to the pants that I’m wearing: 1) throw it in the laundry immediately when home 2) rewear it the next day, but I can’t leave it on my chair at home. I have to hang it on my large laundry basket to wear it. Also, I can’t sit on my couch with these pants at home. I have to change, but I can’t change into my pajamas until I’ve showered first. So I have to shower immediately when I get home.

We arrive at the restaurant. The server seats us quickly and hands us two menus. I cringe inside and realize I forgot to take out my hand sanitizer before I sat down. I sit down anyway and take my hand sanitizer out, calming myself down and telling myself that I don’t often obsess over my hand sanitizer container’s cleanliness and I can let this one go. But I can’t let the gross menu go. Even the drink menu, made out of paper with no greasy plastic covering it, is disgusting to me. I have to sanitize.

We order and I hand the server my menu, and then I sanitize my hands. I reach to touch my partner’s hands but then I realize he hasn’t sanitized yet. I pour some hand sanitizer into his hands then we hold hands. I want to show him something on my phone. He takes the phone, but then places it on the table. I yelp. “The table’s dirty!” I also tell him that I have a silicone phone case and that makes things even worse. I flip it over and already see tiny specks of things on it.

I take out my hand sanitizer and sanitize the back of the phone. I then realize that the hand sanitizer is the moisturizing type and doesn’t work well on non-human surfaces, leaving a slight residue. So I take out one of my first-aid alcohol wipes in tiny square packs that work very well, cheap, and are less wasteful than say a huge wet wipe. I use the first-aid alcohol wipe to get rid of the “moisturizer” in the sunscreen lingering on my phone case.

I reach to drink the water that the server has given us. However, I realized that someone else outside of my sanitized circle—the server—has touched it. So in between drinking the water and touching my phone or anything else, I have to sanitize my hands because the glass might be dirty.

This is an example of me in public. But I have other examples too, mainly from my traumatic childhood where I was struggling with disordered eating and also a very awful home environment. I’ve learned that OCD, while not always directly caused by childhood trauma, can be triggered by it. A stressful environment is a perfect place for compulsions to occur.

When I was a kid, I developed rituals for myself. Rituals like incessantly washing hands, checking locks, checking burners, etc., are a way to self-soothe. But many of my rituals were inspired by avoiding abuse, or trying to assure myself that as long as I did A, B, C, then I could avoid a physical or verbal lashing. Looking back at it, I’ve had OCD for a long time. Mental health illnesses can occur at any age, even for toddlers.

My OCD rituals were important to me because otherwise, “something bad will happen.” That could be anything. The sun could fall out of the sky if I didn’t do a certain behavior. My parents might start yelling at me out of nowhere, once again, if I didn’t do that thing.

“Something bad will happen”. That’s a common consequence of OCD. Looking back at it now, my rituals didn’t really work. My family stayed as they were, but at least I made sure the sun didn’t disappear.

But the truth is, rituals often don’t make sense. Some of them may be grounded in practical issues and may masquerade as practical solutions—[said really fast as if rambling through this part] I think that’s why my hygiene rituals are hard to break because it is true that I have a weak immune system and often get sick and after living with a housemate I have learned that some people really don’t wash their hands after making a mess in the bathroom—but most of them aren’t.

These are merely self-soothing behaviors, an attempt to convince ourselves that if we do certain things, things will be okay. And this makes sense in an abusive household, even though you eventually realize that it will never be okay. I have to thank my friends, loved ones, and therapist for that. Because I don’t have rituals when it comes to my crazy family anymore.

And when it came to disordered eating, it was the same. I was counting calories and considering what I ate every second of the day. People think that the anxiety begins at meal time. No. The anxiety begins from the moment I open my eyes to the moment I sleep. It’s exhausting.

It goes something like this [deep breath]:Okay, what am I going to eat for breakfast? I ate blah blah blah yesterday. That means I can only have blah blah amount of calories today. What do I have in the pantry? Okay, I can eat these. But if I eat this banana then I am not allowed to eat an apple. Too much sugar. How many calories do I have left?

Then, in between meal times: Okay, I ate the banana. [frantic] But what am I going to eat the rest of the day? I have blah blah amount of calories left. I need to make sure I’m satisfying my “macros”. Okay, so here’s the plan. I’m going to eat this for lunch.

5 minutes later: Okay but wait. I have to count again. [sigh] What am I able to eat? How much have I consumed? I have to count.

Rinse and repeat.

OCD is relentless. I see the effects it has on others around me too. My partner, for example, has to sanitize all of the time before we even hold hands!

But like with all things, OCD has its upsides too. One of my closest friends, an actual germaphobe but not someone with OCD, appreciates that I always have hand sanitizer. At least I’m prepared.

Another effect that I didn’t anticipate OCD having on me is the obstacle it posed to me getting a full understanding of my pansexuality. Many people with OCD struggle with intrusive thoughts. From a young age, I was attracted to girls and women in the way many of my peers were attracted to boys and men.

I was raised in a household that was not tolerant of difference, and during a time when children on the playground used “gay” as an insult. It was a taboo word. I remember reading some books published decades ago when “gay” was still used as the adjective for happy, but many of my peers would point at the word and laugh, and it became a playground slur. “You’re gay!!” they would shout. “I’m not!!” I would scream back. But actually, I kind of was.

I indeed was attracted to women just as much as I was attracted to men. But I didn’t want to be “gay” if it was a bad thing that people seemed to dislike, or something that earned me more bullying than what I was already dealing with. And I already was preoccupied with thoughts that I knew were kind of strange to begin with—like my fear of germs—but didn’t really have the label for.

My conclusion was that my attraction to women was an intrusive, fake thought too. It’s not actually who I am. It’s like my fear of germs. Yeah, sure, germs are bad. Yeah, sure, many women are pretty and attractive. But it doesn’t mean I should always be sanitizing my hands, and it doesn’t mean I actually like women.

I’m just crazy. And I need to stop thinking this about women. They probably wouldn’t appreciate it. I’m such a creep for finding women attractive, and for liking them too.

Oh, how wrong I was. But labels are helpful. When I finally came out in high school, I realized that I don’t have a mental disorder for having these thoughts, like my dad would often say. It’s not a genetic disorder. No, I’m simply queer.

I’m not sick in the head. I’m just queer.

And I’m also not a bad, crazy person either despite my efforts to not pass on my own thoughts of contamination to the people around me. I’m just someone with OCD.

I’m just queer. And I just have OCD. The former of which is celebrated, the latter of which…well, I wish I didn’t have. I do admit that I get sick less often thanks to the OCD, but it’s something that I’m working on a lot and wish would go away, in all honesty.

Everything I’ve talked about is a lot of me having my guard up. My guard up against real germs, my guard up against my intrusive thoughts of germs being everywhere, and my guard up against others. But I want to say that there are people you can let your guard down around. They might tease you a little, but if they care about you, they will accept you.

My partner, for example, goes along with me asking him to sanitize his hands after touching his phone that he put on the restaurant table or for touching the menu before we hold hands. One of my best friends never reacts negatively when I say, “As you know, I have OCD. So…” when I am explaining that I need to do something. There is hope for you.

And honestly, only one person has ever said, “Do you have a phobia or something?!” when she saw me sanitizing my hands on the train from a D.C. hotel to the airport. I was helping one of my friends hold onto her suitcase while I was also using my phone and trying to hold onto my own stuff and felt contaminated because I was touching someone else’s suitcase that was not my own. But that person said it in a more joking way, and nodded and said, “makes sense,” when I explained that yeah, actually, I do have OCD.

I think most people are too absorbed in their own worlds and problems to notice my weird tendencies. And a lot of people would even say some more positive things, like, “haha, I wish I wasn’t so lazy and then I’d wipe down my own desk too before using it! I totally understand” when I apologize for taking time to wipe down my classroom desk before touching it. And most people understand and respect boundaries pretty well, and don’t seem to react too negatively when I sanitize my computer right after they touch it, or ask them not to touch my computer and I can just scroll for them instead.

Remind yourself of those people. Because growing up within my toxic family, who bashed all sorts of things about me ranging from the food I like to eat to how I look to my OCD (which my family doesn’t know about but has definitely noticed its manifestations), I was often told, “You’ll never make friends. Nobody will ever like you like this. You’re just too difficult. By the way, you’ll never get married. If you’re like this, you can’t even get a job. Even if nobody says anything, they secretly hate you because you’re difficult and inconvenient. I can’t even deal with you anymore.”

Yeah, it’s true. They can’t deal with me anymore. But I’m comforted by the fact that I’m surrounded by people who believe in me. And by people who don’t necessarily have OCD, but also agree that they don’t like to sit on their beds or couches with their outside clothes and prefer to shower and change, especially after a long day out and about and using public transportation! And most people, honestly, seem like decent people.

I’ve dealt with a lot of sexism before. But those sexist people didn’t seem to notice my OCD tendencies and behaviors. I have people who I can just rant to about having OCD and how exhausting it is, and they nod and listen and respond actively and empathetically. I have people who I can count on to touch things for me because I simply can’t deal with it, and they honestly seem happy to. And they never get offended by me sanitizing myself either. What’s there to get offended by? I’m not choosing to be like this. It’s an illness! They seem to understand, and I hope you can understand this about yourself, too.

I will be honest with you that sometimes, it’s best to just swallow the disgust and distress and deal with it later. Usually I tell people “I have a cut” to avoid shaking people’s hands. But I can’t get out of it while networking for important positions I really want. For people you’re trying to impress, it’s probably best not to sanitize right afterwards because they might actually get offended. And sometimes, it’s best to just say “Haha, I’m just a germaphobe and I have a weak immune system” rather than giving them the full truth if someone asks why you’re sanitizing your work computer, keyboard, and the arm rests on your office chair. This is not exactly a world that particularly cares for neurodivergent people, so you have to protect yourself.

And also, sometimes you just have to accept the fact that things will never be the same, and that’s okay! For example, I don’t complain about my partner’s couch and if people sit on it with outside or inside clothes when I visit him. I still complain about some other things like washing hands. Anyway, the point is: people are understanding of me, and I have to be understanding of them, too, and not try to control their space and lifestyle. I don’t shy away from asking people close to me to sanitize, but I do draw a line at criticizing their lifestyle that is honestly more normal than mine if we think about it. 

Don’t view this as necessarily hiding yourself. Because even if it’s true, that mindset is pretty stifling. I don’t like to view myself as a victim, either; I want to be my own hero! So, I instead just tell myself I’m protecting myself. Sure, my colleagues are probably decent people. But I’m too tired to explain, and I also don’t want this thing that I consider as more of my personal life to be told to colleagues, if you know what I mean.

And I also want to encourage you that not all thoughts or compulsions are the same. Some require more thought from me than others to deal with. For example, it’s really hard for me to resist sanitizing my hands in most scenarios, so I just do it. But for a while, I was disgusted with the outside of my water bottle and the bottom, too, which touches floors, desks, and then my own desk at home. I was able to banish that invasive thought pretty quickly by simply telling myself “I’m too lazy, so whatever.” I do have to say that not all thoughts are like that and that’s not an effective method for most situations, but it does work sometimes.

You just have to find what works for you. And please don’t be afraid to go to therapy, and please don’t get discouraged either. I had a frankly pretty racist therapist when I was 13 years old who told me that I had some cultural issues and need to read all of these memoirs by people who grew up in Chinatown, which I definitely cannot relate to because my issue was that my neighborhood didn’t have that many Chinese people and there’s no Chinatown in San Jose because it turns out they were all burnt down. And then, of course, my mom hated taking me to therapy, so that coupled with the lack of chemistry between my therapist and me meant therapy ended pretty quickly for me at that time.

But I eventually got therapy weekly in high school and in college as well. It’s expensive, yes, but I think it’s worth it. And also remember that you don’t even have to go to therapy all of the time. Sometimes I skip weeks because I’m busy. I don’t even talk about my OCD every single appointment either. Sometimes we just talk about other things affecting my life.

Therapy is a privilege. But if you are at a point in your life where it works for you financially, emotionally, logistically, etc., I highly encourage you to consider it as an investment! I personally try to approach mental health proactively, rather than reactively. I understand it’s not possible for everyone, but I will say that it’s never too late. And don’t beat yourself up for not being able to do it now. Life is hard! Forgive yourself and bookmark the intention for when you can act on it.

[Music]

I merely want to share my story because I feel like OCD is misunderstood. It was even misunderstood by me, and it has significantly impacted my academic life, my understanding of my own gender/sexuality, and others as well. Mental illness is never localized to only the patient themselves but has a large impact on others, especially those close to you.

Still, there’s hope. I acknowledge my privilege in having people who truly love and care for me at this point in my life, and in being able to seek therapy. My friends and loved ones, not my struggles, are why I can say there’s hope. I want to share my story to educate, inform, and also inspire others. I want to destigmatize the illness to allies, casual listeners, as well as anyone who has OCD themselves. I definitely stigmatized myself and held myself back.

But you don’t have to. And anybody around you who puts you down is not the person for you. I can tell you wholeheartedly that it took me years and years to find my people, but they are out there. People will love you for you, and accommodate you. They are out there. Never settle, which means never take the false words that agitators throw at you as fact. Think about it: if such people throw barbs and misguided advice at you yet never bothered to understand you or what it’s like to be you, does it make sense to trust their uninformed words?

So: if and when you inevitably struggle with self-esteem issues, self-doubt, insecurity, imagine yourself with all of the people who love and care about you behind you. As a warning: these people will often not be your family.

Even if you’re worried because they aren’t there yet, I promise you they will be soon. They’re probably already there. You’re loved. I love you, and I believe in you.

Thank you for listening, and see you next time.

Sources

Mayo Clinic. “Obsessive-compulsive Disorder (OCD).” December 21, 2023. https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/obsessive-compulsive-disorder/symptoms-causes/syc-20354432#:~:text=Overview,cause%20a%20lot%20of%20distress.

Lee, Benjamin. “Sleeping (Lofi)” [Transition music]. Free Music Archive. https://freemusicarchive.org/music/benjamin-lee/single/sleeping-lofi/.

Pixabay. Various sound effects. https://pixabay.com.

Rojo, Ocelote. “Nostalgia” [Conclusion music]. Free Music Archive.https://freemusicarchive.org/music/Ocelote_Rojo/Bad_Panda_83/Nostalgia/