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My Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)

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I snuck a quick scan of the classroom. No one was watching. I flipped the paper over again. After stealing another glance at the teacher, I flipped it one last time, completing the ritual twelve times. I could feel my hands shaking out of fear that a friend would notice my behavior. I was safe, for now. But my fear continued throughout the day. My eyes watched the clock tick to eleven, the time of day that always sent panic coursing through my bones. My responsibility for the week was to be the caboose of the line, meaning I had to close the classroom door. This task petrified my eight-year-old self because I viewed the door as a contaminated reservoir for germs. I lagged behind, peered around the corner ensuring my classmates were gone, and …show more content…

As a result, I became insecure and ashamed of not only my actions but also of who I was. At this point, I did what I was taught to do in school-investigate and turned to the Internet where I diagnosed myself with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I informed my parents about my novice diagnoses, but in their Indian Culture, mental health is a binary system: either you're crazy or you're sane. My OCD meant that I was crazy. Because of this, they attributed my behavior to the pressure they placed on me and thought that I would naturally grow out of these strange compulsions. My parents refused to even try to comprehend my behavior. Not long after, in middle school, as my compulsions became more obsessive, I lost the only other support I had: my friends. Slowly, my worst fears came true; my friends began noticing my odd behavior and abandoned our friendship. I felt alone, powerless, without a voice as I tried to stay afloat in this internal …show more content…

Throughout the past four years, every thought about giving up and giving in has passed through my mind, but the consequences of these actions always stopped me from taking action. Instead of quitting, I endured through the agony, and eventually, I learned that the grass is in fact greener on the other side. This lesson was not easily learned. In fact, it wasn't until I began to gain real friends who accepted me for my flaws and spoke to my Chemistry teacher who constantly ensured me that my life will get better that I began to learn that everything has a purpose. High school taught me about academics, but it also taught me academics weren't important. Instead, the people with whom you surround yourself and how they affect your life is important. Without this Academy family, I would have never become confident enough to stand up for myself to my parents and seek the help I needed. With the help of my new support system, I preserved through the strenuous therapy and no longer acted on my strange obsessions. Although the feeling of uncertainty and anxiety wasn’t gone forever, I felt free, for the first time. Free from the constant anxiety. Free from the societal

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