I was in my late twenties. Up until this point, I thought I was just a slightly odd character; a person with his own idiosyncrasies, though mine were perhaps a bit out of the ordinary at times.
I was traveling in India, immersed in a once-in-a-lifetime trip across a land that, at least where I’m from, holds a special spiritual significance.
This trip was supposed to be life-changing, fun, even mystical. Instead, I found myself trapped in the darkest corridors of my mind.
Living in My Head: The Weight of Constant Rumination
The details, the themes of my obsessions, don’t matter, as any OCD expert, especially one trained in ACT, would tell you. What mattered was that I had reached a point where rumination was constant, worry pervasive, and a feeling of foreboding, of not being grounded, had taken over my body.
The trip ended, and I went back home. A few months later, I relocated to Cambodia, where I was to spend the next decade of my life.
Things in my new home were not easy at first. I continued to struggle with obsessive thoughts and was unable to move forward in my professional life or establish nurturing relationships. That intense feeling that things weren’t quite right was still with me; it enveloped my being like a cocoon surrounding a budding butterfly.
After months of going back and forth with myself, obsessing over whether I really needed to see a therapist or if I could handle it all on my own, I finally took the plunge.
My First OCD Diagnosis
Stepping into the psychologist’s office, the first thing that struck me was his appearance: an older Dutch man with a stern, intense gaze accentuated by slightly exaggerated facial features.
I felt apprehensive about opening up; about saying what was really eating me up inside; and stalled by talking about my superficial struggles with daily life in Cambodia. But there was no escaping it. Sooner or later, I would have to get to the point.
And when I did, I was shocked by my therapist’s reaction; or lack thereof, should I say. He looked at me, nonplussed, and said, “Young man, have you ever heard of obsessive-compulsive disorder?”
It goes without saying, but this was just the beginning of a long, long journey of self-discovery, self-compassion, and learning to change the relationship with my mind and my thoughts. It’s not a journey I have completed (or ever will) but that may be exactly the point: to learn to live fully despite the anxious and obsessive parts of my psyche.
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