Relationship OCD

the thoughts beat down like an onslaught of waves, over and over

When I was first diagnosed, I had a few misconceptions on what it actually meant to have obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). The main stream media portrayed OCD as ritualistic counting, cleaning, and organizing. I sat at home wondering why I wasn't afraid of germs and why I hadn't flipped the light switch on and off 7 times before climbing into bed.

"Isn't this just anxiety? These thoughts are a product of anxiety, nothing more" I asked my psychiatrist.

"Oh, you have that too" was the response I received. Que Generalized Anxiety Disorder being added to my list.

I remember being a kid and having to touch a poster of Hope Solo, a world-renowned female soccer goalie, a total of three times before I left the house, or else all the world would go to shit. I would skip every step on the stairs and if I messed up, I'd have to go back to do it all over again. These small "quirks" came and went, seamlessly. I kept them hidden from everyone in my life and had never thought much of it myself.

Now I'm 23 years old and finding out I have a disorder that had been disrupting my life for years prior to knowing of its existence, it's just taken another role in my life.

I was quick to do my own research. Luckily, being in a graduate program for mental health, I had my DSM-5 at the ready. What I found in the diagnostic criteria for this disorder was that I was a perfect fit. I had both obsessions and compulsions, but they were all in my head.

The fact that both my obsessions and compulsions were thoughts and mental-action-related did not exclude me from the OCD I had grown accustomed to seeing or reading about.

Now I guess you might be wondering what exactly I think about so often that causes me great bouts of anxiety and distress. Why I may call out of work? Why I may be speaking with someone and then fall silent at times, a noticeable mood shift?

I fall into the subcategory of "relationship OCD". This means that all of my OCD behaviors center around my relationship. I'm sure this can include other relationships we have throughout life; sibling, parent, friend, etc. But mine focus solely on the partner I am dating at the time.

My thoughts don't bother me when I'm single. Fortunately (and I suppose, unfortunately, that is, if I tried to avoid my triggers forever) I have been in a committed relationship for over a year and a half. Now, I really love this woman. I mean really. All the bells and whistles, movie-romance, butterflies-years-later feelings.

What absolutely sucks about loving someone when having relationship OCD is that I can't always trust or believe they love me back. At least that is what my brain is trying to convince me.

She's going to leave you for someone else.

She's going to be unfaithful.

She doesn't love you.

She only stays with you because she feels bad.

What if these thoughts aren't a product of OCD but just me being a toxic, jealous partner?

Let's look back and try to imagine her life with her exes.

This is what I have in my brain, somedays, on a loop I can't seem to shut off. When it comes down to it, it's not the thoughts that bother me the most but the rumination ritual I engage in every time I have a thought. I have the inability to let them go - I must grab them, analyze them, fact-check them, self-reassure, and let the pain hit deep.

I torture myself over scenarios that may or may not occur. I ruminate over uncertainty. Some days this occurs for hours on end.

Before my diagnosis, thoughts would occur and I would get very accusatory in my statements towards my girlfriend. We both didn't know where this behavior was coming from or how to manage it when it happened. Reassurance is not effective for OCD, nor is accommodation. While it feels good (initially) to hear that she insists she'll never do those harmful things, my brain will twist words of affirmation and safety into "proof" of lies and reaffirmation for my thoughts.

She accommodates me often by refraining from sharing certain stories from times in her life where past significant others might be brought up, by simple mention. This is helpful to avoid triggers at the moment, but not very helpful in allowing me to work through the thoughts and mental compulsions that accompany them.

Medication helps but it doesn't solve everything. I take medication for my anxiety. While that does nothing to quell the constant flow of negativity in my head, it does allow me to be more aware of when I may be triggered or heightened by something.

My diagnosis has allowed me to understand that I am not a jealous person or hurtful partner by nature. I can now explain my thought process in the terms and criteria of the disorder that has seized my mind. I can calmly discuss triggers and ask for reassurance more appropriately. I cry less often on a whim.

It still hurts. There's a lot of pain that accompanies thoughts I can't control. If there's one thing I've learned from all this, it is that the thoughts don't have any power over me, but rather how long I let them stay, to be obsessed over and picked apart.

We can't control what comes and goes in our brain, but we can manage how we acknowledge it and let it pass.

The grappled fixation is one way my brain believes it is protecting me.

It can feel lonely at times. When I want to share my struggle or diagnosis, I usually get these responses:

"Oh you must be so clean and orderly"

"Do you wash your hands a lot?"

"I've never heard of 'relationship OCD'"

"Oh...that must be hard for your partner"

"Don't worry about your thoughts, try to ignore them"

I've never had anyone say something intentionally hurtful or ignorant. But I also haven't had anyone's response be helpful either. Now I realize that there is not a "one response solves all" button, no one can really say anything that will make me feel better.

Usually, it isn't asking much of me to be vulnerable. I'll share my deepest darkest secrets with a stranger if it means that they'll feel a little less alone. But with the small instances I've taken to share about my OCD, I've felt less and less inclined to share.

It's scary to share, as most of my thoughts when spoken to another person, seem unfathomable, especially when the person I confide in knows both my girlfriend and me very well. I seem silly for worrying, but that doesn't stop the worry altogether.

What I know now is this: I have a disorder that is very real, painful, and debilitating. I have OCD, but that does not define who I am, especially in terms of who I can be as a loving partner. There are therapy options like ACT and ERP that I am actively searching for, as I know they will help me to conquer a lot of my obsessive thoughts.

I've come a long way. There are things I can think and speak about that would've lead to a crisis a year ago, but now I may only feel a small sick twinge in my stomach before I am able to let go of the thought or topic completely. I know when I should take space before saying something hurtful or completely unfounded.

I have a loving partner who understands both my disorder and myself separate from one another, but also how the two can so dangerously fuse together. I feel validated in ways I never was years ago.

The place I am at in life is both fragile and beautiful. Years ago I would not be able to do what I do now, while not having the insight I now possess. I am constantly working on my mind: whether that be material (workbooks, podcasts, breathing exercises, physical activity) or simply trying to be more mindful and "let that shit go" rather than ruminate.

I will always have OCD. I can't be "cured". But I can overcome the thoughts and mental behaviors that keep me awake at night or prevent me from being actively present in everyday life.