The Things I’ve Heard

Since I’ve been out at bookstores doing signings with the OCD memoir that I co-authored with my adult child, You’re Not a Murderer: You Just Have Harm OCD, I feel like I’ve just about heard it all. Yes, there’s certainly the typical response, “Oh, look honey,” the wife says as she turns to the husband while pointing at my book, “a book about OCD. I should get that. You know how mad I get when you disorganize my alphabetized spice rack.” They share a chuckle. Oh, yes. I sold the book to her without correcting her. No need. When she reads it, she will understand what OCD truly is. Inevitable cringing will follow, and the chuckle will vanish. One day, they might even educate someone else about what OCD really is.

I don’t think people misuse the term on purpose. It’s just really hard to change a harmful perception that has burrowed so firmly into the public collective. And why does it matter if people get it wrong? Well, when my teenager with severe OCD came home from high school health class years ago and told me they didn’t need therapy because their teacher told them OCD was a “neatness” disorder and they weren’t neat, it mattered a lot! They were tormented by compulsions but that one misunderstanding from someone they trusted, had them utterly confused and delaying therapy.

Then there’s the person who says, “Yes, I have that!” They go on to describe the bins their knickknacks have been arranged into, smiling the whole time. When I say how tormenting OCD was for me and my child, they seem confused. They’re confused because we are NOT experiencing the same thing. That’s the problem with a society that thinks it’s okay to joke about a mental illness and make sweatshirts that say, “I’m OCD for Christmas!” and other such nonsense. When I get a stomachache, I don’t suddenly claim to understand what it is like to have cancer. It isn’t the same thing, people. Yes, there are different degrees or expressions of OCD, but in general, if you can organize your stuff, walk away, and feel relieved, then you probably don’t have OCD. If you organize it, then do it another ten times with tears running down your face because it will never be enough, well, there might be something there.

Another of my other least-favorite comments is, “Aren’t we all a little OCD?” One guy flippantly said this as he looked at the cover of my book, dismissing my struggle without so much as cracking the spine of the memoir. Well, no we aren’t. We can all get a little fixated when we have a desired outcome in mind or get really interested in a project, but no, we do not all have clinical obsessive compulsive disorder. One study identified four genes in people with OCD that neurotypical people do not have. Also, the brain of a person with OCD looks different on a scan. Not only does it show up hotter in the affected regions, but it is literally thicker in some areas and thinner in others. The exception to all this seems to be Pediatric Autoimmune Neuropsychiatric Disorder Associated with Streptococcal infections (PANDAS), which is a form of OCD activated by a strong virus.

Here’s an excellent article explaining OCD and Harm OCD and the mechanisms that switch them on: https://www.newportinstitute.com/resources/mental-health/harm-ocd-hurting-others

For now, what can I do? I can keep heading out into the world with this message. Sure, it’s annoying to be met with the stereotypes. It’s also beautiful from time to time, like when someone walks up to me and says, “Thank you for writing this book,” because they believe it will help their son/daughter, brother/sister, etc. There are also those moments of connection when someone who actually does have true, clinical OCD looks at me with haunted eyes and says, “I’m so glad you’re writing about this. People just don’t understand.”

No, they don’t, but I’m here. I do. And I’ll keep showing up.