Seed of Doubt
Do you really understand that concept?
Are you sure your answer is correct?
You’re probably missing something. There’s only one way to make sure. Review your solution again.
These were the thoughts I had while trying to finish my multivariable calculus problem set at MIT. I didn’t understand why I was doubting myself so much. It seemed like nothing could convince me that I understood the concepts well enough. Not even getting the problems right. There was always that seed of doubt.
These thoughts slowly began to infiltrate more than my academic life. I began to doubt if I loved my family. I doubted if I was a good person. I doubted the authenticity of my friendships. I remember pacing for hours in my room. I skipped meals. I avoided showering. I ignored my friends.
I repeated this cycle until I felt like my doubts were extinguished. When that happened, I would feel a sense of relief, only to find something else to doubt.
This was OCD
OCD was an enemy that I had no choice but to fight. And soon after I told a friend, I realized that OCD brought a friend to that fight.
The Firehose
My friend’s response, when I came out about my OCD, was:
Oh, that’s just the firehose. You’ll be fine.
You see, at MIT, students would compare the intense workload to the extreme water pressure from a firehose.
But my symptoms didn’t come from a heavy workload. They were a result of a doubting disorder. A disorder that I was now ashamed to speak about: that’s what happens when your friend downplays the severity of your struggle.
Who knew stigma would be such a difficult opponent? I like to imagine stigma as OCD’s partner in battle because of how well they work together. While OCD inflicts direct damage, stigma ensures that I can’t request backup.
Me: Instead of sleeping, I’ve been pacing in my room. This is getting out of control. I need to tell someone at MIT Medical.
Stigma: As your friend said, it’s just the firehose. Don’t tell me you can’t handle the work. Why are you even here then?
Stigma fed my imposter syndrome, convincing me that I’d be a fraud if I didn’t resolve this OCD problem myself. And it worked.
I still think back to this day and imagine how things could’ve played out if I reached out to a mental health professional months earlier.
OCD is Not a Superpower
But that was then. Months at the OCD Institute and years of therapy later, I’m a new person. Instead of succumbing to stigma’s threats, I call them out in my very own newsletter. And there’s no offense more egregious than the OCD is My Superpower trend.
Brace yourselves. These were reviewed, edited, and published:
These articles are dangerous because they misrepresent OCD as an advantageous quirk. As a result, voices that need to be heard the most are silenced. The tremendous work we put into our recovery is minimized.
OCD is not a superpower.
The irony is that the techniques we learn as a result of battling OCD are more of a superpower than OCD could ever be. Think about the benefits of knowing how to ground yourself when you’re overwhelmed with stress. Or knowing how to utilize mindfulness to bring your focus back to the person you’re conversing with.
These OCD management skills benefit us in a multitude of ways beyond combating OCD. It’s time we shed light on our real superpowers.
Indirect Control
At MIT, my OCD triggers usually started with me reading about a concept. I would think, “Do I really understand this?”. These thoughts of doubt would spark feelings of worry and anxiety. My behavior would then reflect those feelings as I gave into my rituals (overthinking and pacing).
Those battling OCD know this vicious cycle like the back of their hand. We also know that no amount of avoiding, suppressing, or overthinking can get rid of those unwanted thoughts and feelings. Responding to OCD with rituals is like a rocking chair. It gives us something to do but never gets us anywhere.
To combat this, we’re taught about how our thoughts, feelings, and behavior influence each other. To visualize these relationships, The Cognitive Triangle was formed.
We don’t always have direct control over our thoughts and feelings. During times of high stress, we can’t force ourselves to feel happy. During times when we’re distracted, we can’t flip a switch and think about something productive. However, we can control our behavior.
We can choose to go outside and get fresh air if we are feeling down. We can call a friend if we’re overwhelmed with intrusive thoughts. Of course, this is extremely difficult and will take practice, but it is effective. By spending energy on what is in our locus of control (our behavior), we can positively influence those thoughts and feelings.
The application of this technique stretches far beyond combating OCD. Life throws everyone curveballs. Knowing what swing to use is a pretty amazing superpower.
Keys to the Present Moment
Sometimes it feels like life is a constant battle against forces trying to pull us away from the present moment. Losing that battle is awesome news for OCD because the past and future are where OCD thrives.
In my book, any tool that can empower us to stay in the present moment is an S-tier superpower. This is why when asked what OCD management skill she’d consider a superpower, therapist Lindsay McGovern had this to say:
Mindfulness is a really important skill in the management of OCD that is incredibly helpful in all areas of life. Practicing coming back to the present moment, accepting thoughts and feelings without judgment, and being aware of the 5 senses is incredibly helpful in reducing stress, and anxiety, as well as improving mood and overall wellness.
With mindfulness, you can shift your attention back to the present moment despite any distractions. Intrusive thoughts, toxic coworkers, and unpredictable bad days don’t stand a chance.
There is no shortage of present-moment awareness techniques. Therapist Krista Reed had this to say about her favorite one:
Non-engagement responses (NERs) help me to combat not just intrusive thoughts but any thoughts that might not be relevant to the present moment.
Non-engagement responses are statements that intentionally affirm the uncertainty that OCD wishes you’d run away from or try to suppress.
Example (Scrupulosity OCD):
Intrusive thought: You didn’t pray 3 times today. What if God causes your family to get into an accident?
NER: Interesting. I guess we’ll never know for sure if that’s going to happen. Thanks for the interesting scenario though.
By using NERs, you actively disengage from OCD’s attempts to bait you, thereby disarming it. Now imagine using these statements in response to any unproductive, intrusive thought that life throws at you. That’s not a bad tool to have at your disposal.
The Power of Us
The techniques I mentioned above are only a few of the many superpowers we learn as we battle OCD. I’m a firm believer in the power of knowledge sharing, which is why I’d like to end this piece with a way for all of you to contribute.
If you know of a technique you’ve learned throughout your OCD journey that you think would qualify as a superpower, then tell me using the link below. You can stay anonymous, but if you’d like to be featured on the Orchard Journal Instagram, feel free to select that option.
https://by2tpddmx89.typeform.com/to/KBxACLdm
Until next time!
Good Question
What better way to get to know each other than with a good question? Every Friday, I’ll include one of those questions and if you’d like, you can answer by replying to this email or by using the comment button below. Then, I’ll send you my answer. I look forward to getting to know you better!
How has stigma affected your OCD journey?
Until next time
Thanks for reading this week! And remember, if you ever have any questions, or suggestions, or want to chat, you can email me or DM me on Instagram or Twitter @orchardjournal.
See you,
Corey
I don’t share my diagnoses (OCD and beyond) with people outside my very close circle. In fact, I usually take a conservative approach when talking about myself. I consider this to just be my “private nature” but I suspect deep down I just don’t want people to use this information against me.