Two days before my first wedding anniversary, my life took an unexpected turn. I was watching a movie with my family on the couch, and out of the blue, a thought popped into my head. It was not one of my own. I tried to shake it off as something insignificant; however, the thoughts persisted. Think about it like a faucet that drips incessantly, and you can’t find the source of the leak. I spent my anniversary getaway in turmoil, feeling frightened and confused, researching what I was experiencing while trying to celebrate this momentous occasion with my husband.
I was officially diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) in fall 2022.
According to the National Health Service (NHS), OCD has three main elements:
- Obsessions – when an unwanted, intrusive, and often distressing thought, image, or urge repeatedly enters your mind.
- Emotions – the obsession causes a feeling of intense anxiety or distress.
- Compulsions – repetitive behaviors or mental acts that a person with OCD feels driven to perform as a result of the anxiety and distress caused by the obsession.
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Stress or anxiety frequently causes intrusive thoughts, which I was experiencing. The Harvard Medical School shared that it may also be a short-term problem brought on by biological factors, such as hormone shifts. For example, a woman might experience an uptick in intrusive thoughts after the birth of a child. The trauma and shame I carried with me for years had finally caught up with me. I learned to live with stress like an old, familiar friend, pushing myself to succeed and move past the realities of living in poverty, the loss of trust, and abandonment. I needed to heal my inner child and shed any notion that I wasn’t good enough. Or that I needed to be “Perfect Patty,” because Perfect Patty messed up. I had avoided my emotions and pushed them to the side, and now there was nowhere to run, and I had to face them head-on.
Over the past year, I have taken steps to rebuild my confidence and own my truth. I knew that I could not conquer OCD on my own, and I would need my village to help me break through. As a Black woman, I’ve had to advocate for myself to get the help that I needed. I followed my gut instinct. Trimming the fat, anything that doesn’t serve me, including stress and triggers. Little did I know that the very act of seeking help would become the catalyst for my healing journey. Therapy has become my sanctuary, a space where I can unravel the intricate web of my thoughts and emotions. Medication, like Zoloft, has provided the stability I so desperately craved, helping me regain control of my life. But most importantly, I have found solace in the unwavering support of my loved ones. Their compassion has been a lifeline.
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As I navigate this challenging journey, I have learned that OCD is not a sign of weakness but a testament to my strength. It has shown me the power of resilience and the importance of self-compassion. Through the darkest moments of my OCD, I have discovered an inner light, a spark of determination that refuses to be extinguished. My hope is that by sharing my journey, I can light a path for others who may be struggling in the shadows, reminding them that they are not alone and that healing is possible.
Today, I feel empowered. Empowered by the courage it took to seek help. The love and understanding of those around me empowers me. As I look out at the world through the lens of my own experience, I am filled with gratitude for the transformative power of vulnerability and the resilience of the human spirit. Through the seasons of life, I am learning to bloom again, embracing the vibrant colors of my own truth.
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