I was diagnosed with OCD when I was seven years old. Of course I didn't know what it was, and I thought my dad, who is a physician, was making it up when he first told me that he thinks I might have it. I was a savvy little child, and I thought there was a chance he could be creating a fictional disease to in his hopes help cure it. I remember he laid me down and told me shut my eyes and envision the letters OCD in a red box. He told me to breathe in and out and monitor the color of the box as I focused on my breath. Being tired and not too aware of mindfulness or meditation as a way to lessen anxiety, I think I lied to him saying that the box was turning a bluer "safe" color as the exercise persisted.

Shortly after that night, my parents decided to take me to a psychologist who did in fact validate my dad's diagnosis, aleviating any suspicision I had that the disease was not real. I sought counseling for years, seeing multiple counselors until finally being put on medicine at age 13. I will say more about the effects of the medicine, but first I find it necessary to explain how my OCD manifested itself from the age of 7 to about 13.
My parents became aware when I would spend hours on end checking the toilet seat, tapping my doors, and closing and shutting my closet door until things "felt right". When i was in 5th grade, perfectionism started kicking in, and I felt that if I didn't receive the best grades, I wouldn't receive approval that I desperately needed (my parents as a security blanket and healthy foundation were often flawed- a whole other story). After 5th grade, my OCD took on a whole new character. I completely lost awareness, and would often find myself doing very strange things on autopilot, which in effect, annoyed and drove away many people. As a result, making friends became difficult, and I ran into some behavioral and academic issues at school. I wore the same shirt everyday and refused to keep asequate hygeine because I was compelled to do so by my compulsions. I didn't have enough control over my attention to be able to study and do my work. In fact, I almost failed 6th grade, and I learned what the saying "passed by the skin of your teeth" meant that year. 7th grade got better as I became a little more focused, but I did have weird habits that got in the way of again paying attention. When you have OCD, your awareness gets hijacked by unwanted thoughts, and of course that will negatively affect your grades. It did. It did in fact until about 11th grade when I became conscious of the fact that college was pending and that I wouldn't get into college if I didn't pull things together. I did and I didn't. OCD did steal my life through those years in many ways, but I did still manage to pull off a 3.4 GPA in high school, and I ended up going to a state school where I earned a bachelor's degree in English education(I guess the figurative language rendered to me in 6th grade stuck).

When I said that OCD really hijacks your awareness, I felt it on such a high level in college. I was an emotional mess. OCD is an anxiety disorder that compells people to lessen the anxiety by performing rituals. I could not tolerate fear or anxiety because I struggled with adopting proper coping mechanisms. I resorted to compulsions which only made me more irritated. I could not tolerate my emotions and often again drove people away by expressing them in ways that were often drama filled and unnecessarily so.
I felt trapped inside my mind. I knew I had so much more to offer to this world, but I was literally trapped as I didn't know how to undo this conditioning.

My intense recovery began in 2007 when I met a new pyschologist whosefull nameshall remain nameless due to confidentiality reasons. I was 21 and on break from my senior year in college. I was preparing for my student teaching the following semester, and I "lost it" on some levels. My feelings of opression by this disease were so intense, I felt as though I was not in touch with myself at all. My medicine made me gain so much weight, I felt unhealthy, I often resorted to overeating to help supress emotions, and I felt powerless. I remember curling up in the fetal position in my mom's home office saying I couldn't take it anymore. She, in a state of panic, went on the internet to search for psychologists in the area who specialized in OCD. About a week later, I had an appointment with Christine a PhD who specialized in cognitive behavioral therapy and exposure response prevention in conjunction with mindful meditation. As she was just starting her practice, she has a lot of time to meet with me through intense outpatient therapy. She made house visits where we practices exposing myself to the things that caused me anxiety like turning a stove on and off and then not performing the rituals such as checking to see if the stove was off. She said the purpose of this is to see that there is no negative outcome and that not giving into compulsions will cause anxiety but that it would eventually pass. We dealt with the intense anxiety left by not checking through meditation and training the mind to be able to sit with uncomfortable feelings. We did this sort of technique with a multitude of other issues I was having like my AIDS phobia and my driving phobias. It took years of practice for this to soak in a bit, but in 2009, I had a breakthrough.
I mentioned before that my family wasn't a really strong security blanket, so suffering with OCD in that type of environment did not provide me with necessary support in trying to overcome this beast. However, there was one person in my life who served as my sturdy foundation. That person was my grandfather. He died in 2009, but prior to his death, he was very ill as he was suffering from a heart condition. I often made home visits to him, and I almost always referred to them as Sundays with Ace (his nickname). it was almost like going to church because although we did argue, and he always nagged me, he always made an effort to remind me of my potential. He always told me how determined I was and how he knew that when he died, I would be okay. He shared stories of his own triumphs in WWII and through his own psychological battles with dyslexia. His motto was to never give up, and when he died on May 28, 2009, I sat beside him on his death bed after he had passed, and I promised him I wouldn't. THAT was when my life changed forever. THAT is when I made a vow to myself to claim my life back and to finally confront fear, to sit with fear, and to let it pass through me to reach habituation.
My first goal was to lose my unnecessary weight. I was 30 pounds overweight, and I felt horrible. I started doing this on June 21, 2009. I joined a gym and started eating healthier. I was a teacher by this point, so I had a whole summer to focus on my physical health. By August I was only 10 pounds overweight, and I gained a love for running. I felt that it not only allowed me to melt the pounds off, but it also gave me more confidence and helped me focus on the present moment (you have to do this when you run as it can sometimes be a greuling task). I was already increasing my awareness through this, and by the fall on 2009, I had regained so much strength mentally and physically. This strength was reinforced by others complimenting me on my healthy new look. I felt on top of the world until Decemeber of that year. I ran into my first obstacle on the path to recovery. Bulemia following a minor episode of anorexia.
I was so dependent upon the positive reinforcement that I was getting of my outward appearances that I felt pressure to keep going. I reached a weight that was below my healthy body mass index, and I douldn't stop. I was always cold and hungry…. so hungry that I started binge eating to satisfy the extreme cravings I had developed but thenpurging to maintain my weight. This lasted for about 4 months periodically, and as a result, I became depressed and scared. This led to a second breakthrough which occured in April of 2010.
On a day in April, I sat above my toilet after purging a binge. I cried and cried and cried like a baby. I felt helpless, depressed, and alone. I wondered when my mental suffering would ever end. I was scared that I would have a heart attack from all of the purging I had done, and I knew I had to stop or I probably would get a heart attack or worse increase my chances of death.
I stopped and realized that I was becoming too dependent on what other thought about me. I had gained some weight back, but I could not allow myself to be affected by it. I went the other way and began meditating more and more until I finally reached a peaceful place that lead to this breakthrough. I remember after mediating, I felt a feeling of depersonalization… as if my thoughts patterns were being transformed. At first, I felt scared. I didn't know what was going on, but as it set in, I remember falling to my knees and crying. I felt relieved of suffering, and clarity started to set in, and I felt less afraid. It was almost as if I had gained a higher level of consciousness and I could sense things and see things for what they were. This was the first time I began to believe in God. It took me to hit rock bottom to gain trust that there was something that loved me and reminded me that I have a purpose on this earth that transcended looking good and impressing people. It transcended my fears of aids and my many other manifestations of OCD. It provided me with hope and purpose. It provided me with the power to keep on running and to listen to my heart which told me to pursue all of the dreams I had as a kid that were never realixed because of all of the fear, depression, and OCD I had blocking them.

Shortly after this breakthrough, I started to see things as one, and I felt whole. I felt clear-headed. I booked a trip to Europe for the following summer because travel was one of my dreams. I ran my first 10 mile race, and I toured the Canadian Rockies. I flew to Vancouver on my own, and I saw the Eiffel Tower. I climbed the Eiffel Tower. I white water rafted in the Frazer River. I rode and ATV and got my first concussion. I sat in a Italian Cafe in Florence, sipped red wine alone and read my book. I visited the Red Light District in Amsterdam and visited Anne Frank who restored my of my faith in love, life, and hope. I took a bus ride up a cliff in British Columbia that scared the hell out of me, and I drank probably more than enough beer in Germany. I sat on the rocks of the French Riviera and marveled at the beauty of the Meditteranean. I visited the Monte Carlo and lost at Roulette. I saw how wine was made, and I slept in my first hostel. I toured London and crossed the French Channel. I smoke cigarettes and gave two Euro to beggars who I found out were professional scam artists. I played truth or dare with travelers along the way in a little town called St. Groar in Germany. I flew from Amsterdam to London holding a strangers hand because of my fear of flying. Boy I met so many people on planes that summer because they sensed I needed comfort. I met a girl who I inspired to eat alone in a restaurant. She was afraid of being alone, and I told her the tails of liberation it brought.
I felt free because I had conquered so much. I had felt confident, and I became symptom free for a little.
I came back confident but I knew my journey was not yet over. That next summer, I went to Peru Chile and Argentina. Peru was most challenging as visiting Machu Picchu was the scariest thing I ever did but also the most liberating thing. One of the highest points in the word, you had to endure a very scare bus ride up a mountain with no ravines to get to the top. Being scared of heights, this was going to be intense. However, I did with it, and I learned to sit with more fear. My OCD lessened as I gained more confidence. That summer I also visited families with much less fortune than me, and I learned about other ways of attaining happiness differing from the hustle and bustle of the American Dream. I felt calm because I was able to connect with people whose cultures were far different than mine on such a basic level. That experience alone allowed me to gain more perspective about my depression, OCD, and anxiety. I met people from all over the world who opened my eyes in so many ways. I sat in breathtaking Chilean churches and learned about oppression and war in each of the countries I visited. I flew over the Andes and stayed in more hostels and met a couple who was on a leg of traveling the world and who just got done biking down the worlds most dangerous road in La Paz Bolivia. They survived and that inspired me. Although I would rather walk, it gave me hope that we are only limited by our thinking. I was even more determined to break more limits. I came home from that trip even more inspired.
It's been about a year, and I have done many things I have never thought I could do. I ran a multitude of more races (even my first half marathon), I have traveled to more places in the U.S., I entered a great relationship, and I have maintained healthy relationships with friends. I finished my master's program, and have successfully lived alone for three years. I am going into my fifth year of teaching and am becoming more and more confident with my teaching. I began an art class, and am even dabbling in cooking. I raised a kitten to a three year old cat, and I have maintained a security in my finances.

There have been ups and downs since my challenges. I had to give up some dreams like running a full marathon due to a back injury and I gave up traveling across the country completely alone due to my fears, but I am at a place where awareness is in control rather than my symptoms in full. I am not afraid to seek help when they occur because I promised my grandfather and my soul that I would never stop giving up following my dreams and listening to my heart no matter how many set backs. It could take a lifetime beat this disease, but I am determine because the other way is just not a possiblity. My main goal is to never let my heart die again… and let OCD, anxiety, and depression take over. As I am noticing symptoms return again, I have made an appointment to seek help via a multitude of ways… support groups and private counseling, and hopefully through this online community. Life IS worth living, and I truly believe we were given these obstacles to battle for the common good of all mankind. I believe these battles must be won in order to keep faith alive and to help love win in whatever purpose this universe was created. I must never give up the good fight.