My OCD is draining me
I’ve always resorted to compulsions when under intense stress. My first OCD spiral started when I was 8 years old. I’m now 25 (F), and until a few months ago, I was actually doing pretty well.
This year has been incredibly overwhelming. My dad is bipolar and has been physically abusive toward me, which led me to flee my home and move in with my partner. We’re genuinely very happy to live together, but our condo is far too small for us to feel truly comfortable. On top of that, I had to quit my job as an urgent care psychologist because I was heading straight into burnout.
To make matters worse, May has probably been the most traumatic month of my life, and I’m trying to process all of this while also being autistic and chronically ill.
Recently, I developed a new obsession. At first, it was centered around our cat’s health (he has the feline equivalent of AIDS), and now, because of a bad joke my brother made, my OCD has shifted toward checking my partner for signs of balding. The thing is, this man has an insanely full head of curls, and I’m probably obsessing over completely normal baby hairs.
I know this is a compulsion. I know it’s happening because my brain is overwhelmed by everything I’ve been carrying lately. But it still makes me extremely anxious, and I feel so angry and ashamed of myself for doing these checks.
My partner has been nothing but supportive and has never judged my OCD, which somehow makes me feel even guiltier. I feel like a terrible person for putting him through this.
What makes it even worse is that I’m a psychologist — the person who’s supposed to help others — and yet I feel like I’m completely losing my mind myself. Intellectually, I can recognize the mechanisms behind what’s happening. I know these compulsions are fueled by stress, trauma, hypervigilance, and the need for certainty. But emotionally, I still feel trapped in them, and the shame that comes with that is unbearable sometimes.