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My Current State:
As I am writing this article, I am far better than I was at my lowest. As such, some of what I am about to tell you is based on past experiences, at a time when things felt a lot darker than they do now. The knowledge I have learnt from it though is very relevant to my current life. This is because it is fundamental to how I now understand, and therefore cope with, my OCD.
The first, and most fundamental, thing I have come to understand about OCD, is the sheer extent to which it can alter my mind. This applies both to the strength of these effects (making me think that up is down and vice versa), but also to the range of ways in which my thoughts were being influenced.
Over time, I have become more aware of these different ways. I suspect even now there are parts of its influence I have yet to fully understand, but I at least understand enough to be able to live a happy life, which at times I didn’t believe could be possible.
This then, is what I have learnt about how my OCD affects my mind.
Intrusive Thoughts:
The most obvious way my OCD affects me, is by serving up negative thoughts, like the world’s most unhelpful butler. Whether it is dredging things up from some murky corner of my memory, going over the same thoughts again and again, or thinking up new and ‘interesting’ thoughts to ruin my day, my OCD could always be relied upon to provide a steady stream of misery.
Even before I knew I had OCD, I knew that this wasn’t normal. That much was plain to see. I knew that most people didn’t have anything like this many negative thoughts and worries. What I didn’t know then though, is why this was happening.
At times, I thought it was indeed due to my mental health issues (although I thought it was anxiety). At other times though, I felt that because I was feeling this way, that there must be some truth to it: that because I was having these thoughts, I really must have done these awful things, or at least something bad. Because why else would I be having all these thoughts?
These thoughts don’t come with labels, or a flashing sign. They don’t announce themselves to be intrusive thoughts. Usually, they seemed to arise naturally, caused by something I read, saw, or thought about, for instance. I had no reason to think that these thoughts were fundamentally different in some way. The fact I was having all these different thoughts then, seemed to suggest that there was some reason why this was happening. I felt like I was guilty, even if I couldn’t always point to what exactly it was that I was guilty of.
Even when I was aware that my brain was subjecting me to a level of scrutiny far beyond what was normal, I still feared that doing so had uncovered wrongdoings that were all too real. I sometimes felt like this was unfair. That subjecting anyone to such an absurd level of scrutiny would unearth something. Nevertheless though, now that I had had this thought, I feared that I may be stuck with it.
From a certain perspective, this all makes sense. Generally, people trust their thoughts. So if I am having these thoughts, then there is a sensible reason for that, right? I have learnt that for me though, the answer to this is ’No. I cannot trust my thoughts’.
Judgement:
The next lesson took longer to learn, and longer still to act upon. Namely, that my judgement and emotional reaction to these thoughts cannot be trusted either. What I mean by this, is that when I have these thoughts, my ‘threat assessment’ of it, both ‘logically’ and emotionally, has no meaningful correlation with the truth.
The first time I remember having such a thought, I was convinced it was true. Because it felt true. The ‘logic’ seemed to make sense. My reaction to it felt real as well. So what reason was there to doubt it?
Over time, the reasons grew. I saw how thoughts that had seemed so real and all-consuming at the time, would later seem so ridiculous. Logically then, I was starting to understand that my mind was catastrophising, and that my judgement in these moments could not be trusted. Past thoughts had turned out to be overblown, or had been ‘disproven’ in the end. It stood to reason then, that the same could well be true of the current thought.
Emotionally though, it was (and frankly still is) another matter entirely. The thoughts and emotions always feel so real when I am in them. They seem to make perfect sense. The logic seems to flow seamlessly to the conclusion that the thought is true. I always feel, unlike the past thoughts, this one is real.
Even now as I am writing this, thoughts I know to be ridiculous, were I to entertain them, would start to feel real again. It is almost like being in a dream.
It frankly feels embarrassing for me, as someone who considers themself to at least be not entirely stupid, how many times I have fallen for it. This though, is simply the nature of the condition.
Meaning & Uncertainty:
The final two ways in which it impacts my mind, are about the consequences if the thought is true, and about what level of uncertainty I am able to tolerate. Simply put, ‘What if this thought is true?’ and ’What if it might be true?’.
Regardless of the severity of the thought, and its accusation against me, the consequence of it turning out to be true was almost always the same. That it would mean I was evil. Irredeemably so. That I had thrown away my chance at a life. That I wouldn’t be able to live with the knowledge that it was true, or even the slightest chance that it might be. After all, if I couldn’t be 100% certain that it wasn’t true, then I had to live as if it were definitely true, right?
I was treating myself, in a way that I would not treat someone else. If someone else told me that they feared they may have done something, without even being aware, or realising the extent of what it is that they were doing, and they now felt awful about it, would I tell them the same things that my mind told me? How about if they told me there was a chance they had done it, but they weren’t sure? Would I have honestly thought that it made no difference?
Learning to question these assumptions:
The fact that I am having this thought means there must be some truth to it. Why?
This thought is making me feel anxious. This means that there is truth to it. Is that how this works?
This thought and the ‘logic’ behind it feels real and true, so that means it must be true. Does it?
If this thought is true, then I am pure evil and irredeemable. Is that a fact?
I cannot accept any chance whatsoever that this thought might be true. Why not?
I was believing and following these statements, without even realising I was doing so. In my mind, they were such fundamental truths, it didn’t even occur to me to question them. Or indeed, that they were something I was choosing to believe. Or that they were anything at all. The facts above were simply true, and that was that. I didn’t even know that questioning them was an option.
They are not fundamental facts, or laws of the universe, or anything like that. I was treating them as such though, and this was causing me problems.
By realising that I was following these assumptions, I could begin to question them. I could see how my OCD was manipulating me. It was using these fundamental ‘truths’, that normally do not need to be questioned, to pass of its statements as facts. For instance, because I felt anxious about a thought, that suggested there was some truth to it. But my OCD meant that my emotions could not be trusted in this way. Therefore, I was falling into its trap.
So what does this mean:
Becoming aware of all this, did not solve everything. It did however, enable me to see how my OCD was tricking me. My thoughts didn’t have to mean the things they claimed to mean, nor did my emotional response to them. Crucially, it allowed me to allow myself, to begin the process of getting better. It gave me the foundations to begin to not respond to my thoughts, without feeling that by doing so, I was being immoral, and not holding myself accountable for things that I should be.
I am not saying, that I can be 100% sure that none of my thoughts are true. Equally though, I have no real reason to think that they are true either. I am okay with that, which I didn’t think would ever be the case.
What I can say, is that the fact that I am having these thoughts, and how I feel about these thoughts, has no actual relationship to any objective truth. I am not having these thoughts because I am a bad person. I am having them because I have OCD. Whether I am a bad person or not is unrelated.
This thought doesn’t feel true because it is. It feels true because I have OCD, and perhaps because I am also in a bad frame of mind (perhaps I am hungry, or tired, or cold, or have had a bad day). Whether it is true or not has very little (if anything) to do with how it feels.
I have learnt that I can tolerate uncertainty (which felt like something that was completely impossible), and that I don’t have to be 100% certain about everything to be able to live my life. I live with uncertainty every day, about a whole range of things, usually without even realising it. What’s a few more things.
Ultimately, I have learnt that when my mind tells me things, I don’t always have to listen to it. In fact, it’s usually far better if I don’t.
Last Updated: 1st May, 2026
