Dear OCD…

Honestly, I usually don’t feel a lot of anger.  I spend a lot of time feeling anxious, euphoric, depressed, and content, but I don’t find myself angry often.  But as life goes on, I’m finding that I’m pretty unhappy with OCD.  While I’ve previously written about embracing my mental disabilities (and these writings still hold true), right now I just need to vent TO my disorder about what a pain it can be for me.  So here goes…

Dear OCD,

Seriously, stop being so mean.  I’m tired of you being a [insert not so nice expletive here].  I wish that you’d just cooperate with me and get out of my life for a little while.  You do disappear sometimes, but just not enough.  You never really go away.

You’re always lurking behind every corner.

And I hate you for that.

You’ve tried to ruin relationships that I’ve had with both others and myself.  You’ve made me question my sanity, my intentions, my sense of being, the world around me, many, many times.  It’s the nature of what you do– “the doubting disease” being your other name.  

You used to make me engage in more obvious compulsions but these days most of them are silent and internal… covert.  In some ways this is more torturous, as others don’t see the pain that goes on over and over again inside my head.

I used to think the worst part about you was the anxiety, but lately I’ve decided it’s the guilt.  The guilt and the doubt.  The constant state of confusion you leave me in.  It’s torturous and I’ve described it countless times as it feeling like having thorns scratch and poke through my brain.  

While you change your shape and form, I’m often able to recognize you and your irrationality.  However, just because I know you’re full of lies, it doesn’t mean I can escape your grasp.  Medicine helps alleviate you, but only a little.  My therapist and I are going to work harder to stomp out the fires you’ve been creating inside my head.

You make me feel uncertain and fearful, and oftentimes, it leads to self loathing because I never really feel sure.  I’m going to keep fighting you, but it’s my right to tell you I’m pissed.  I’m tired of your games.

Sincerely, someone who’s exhausted

P.S. I believe I’ll be okay… it’s you who should be worried.


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Born in 1994 // speaks English and working towards fluency in Spanish, French, Portuguese // Writing a novel // Attending university in the nation's Capitol.

3 thoughts on “Dear OCD…”

  1. This is a great letter! I wrote a letter like this to Guilt about a year ago, and it felt really good. I think what helps about this exercise is that we identify the pattern–the OCD, guilt, anxiety, whatever–as separate from ourselves. It is not who we are–we are something much better and healthier. And that’s encouraging!

    Liked by 1 person

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