In The Grip Of 'Pure O'

All types of OCD have the potential to be debilitating, life-wreckers. Despite what social media would have you believe, it's not a 'cute' mental illness: it can be absolute torture.

I have what is known as, ‘Pure O’ OCD, which basically means that my compulsions exist as invisible brain pre-occupations.

My ‘Pure O’ fixations have lasted over 30 years, taking on one form or another. Mostly they reflect anxiety over being 'different', but are rooted in trying to get rid of a feeling of 'badness'.

The obsession that has remained stubbornly stuck and done the most damage in my life is undoubtedly ‘P’ OCD (a horrifying fear of being attracted to children) – an increasingly common sub-type of ‘Pure O’.

I find it hard to write about even though I know logically that it is not something to be afraid or ashamed of – it is simply a terrible form of OCD.

Perhaps what makes it so terrible is that it is still a taboo subject and I kept it a secret for years, convinced that either I would discover that my fears were true, and/or that I would be met with revulsion by doctors or counsellors.

In the last 20 years it has been increasingly acknowledged in by the OCD community and professionals, and has gained visibility on social media (Sending thanks to Instagram's Pure O Chrissie), but I still worry that people will not understand it, and indeed see me negatively if they knew about the kind of OCD I have.

This all plays firmly into my OCD and the anxious voice that used to repeatedly tell me as a child and teenager that, 'If they knew what I was 'really' like, they would hate me.'

I can sometimes go for days and weeks without being triggered by my OCD, but it is always there lurking (thankfully with therapy and self-education the spiral ends after a few hours rather than a few days).

As with many forms of OCD it involves checking for reassurance, which creates a repetitive thought loop (and shame spiral) - Much like a person trapped in a hole trying to dig themselves out, trapping them further and deeper.

The focus is intensely zeroed in on my bodily feelings and sensations to check for evidence of ‘attraction’ that I find repugnant and frightening. What began as checking to reassure myself that I felt the ‘correct’ feeling (which in this case I would only accept as having no feeling down 'there'), I became so hyper-sensitive to any perceived response that it actually turned into proof that I was feeling (what I labelled as) ‘attraction’.

I had inadvertently conditioned myself to experience a feeling just by checking to make sure I wasn't having one.

What it meant was that my life was over before it had really begun. At 15 I started to hate myself and withdrew from socialising, developing what was diagnosed as 'generalised anxiety disorder'. Despite having counselling, it wasn't until I hit a very low point during university five years later that I finally spoke to a doctor about my obsessive worries - convinced that I was going to be put on a register or worse.

All that time spent in Hell completely on my own, only for a psychiatrist to mumble something about OCD without any clear explanation. Any treatment I was then given was further complicated my undiagnosed CPTSD; it wasn't until I began psychotherapy in my early 30s that I really began to feel my way around the maze.

I remember developing the obsession with my body’s sensations as a child at primary school. I would obsess over whether I was feeling the ‘right’ thing, as I was desperate to prove that I was ‘normal’; I wanted to be the same as all the other girls. So maybe I was obsessed with the thought that I was different.

I checked my hand, when I accidently touched a boy’s hand that I liked, to see if I felt ‘sparks’, because I had seen on television or read that that was what should happen.

Whenever I felt awkward, or didn’t seem to have the same interests or reactions as the other girl’s, I felt afraid. I wanted to know what was wrong with me, and I wanted to feel better.

My parents treated me as though I was an inconvenience, and didn’t seem to be interested in me, so I did everything to please them. The idea of being different; not fitting in or being disliked at school as well - my only escape from home - was terrifying.

Again, I judged myself defective and wanted to be pleasing to everyone, but inside I was harshly critical; I had to think and feel ‘right’ inside. It was like there was a sticky shame that I couldn’t shake off no matter how much I searched for what was wrong with me so that I could correct it.

I believed that I was ‘bad’ because I had been born into the role of being a ‘bad child’ or rather a ‘Scapegoat’. I carried the weight of the blame and I was the only one who would go into therapy.

I became aware of what a paedophile was long before I heard the actual word. There were a few occasions before the age of ten that I had been in the presence of men with bad intentions and I had felt the icky threat, as many young girls (and boys) unfortunately do.

There were times when my dad was abusive.

OCD latches onto your values and your deepest fears.

I personally observed how people can live with secrets and do awful things but remain unaccountable and unashamed. I wonder if I am acting out the shame and the secrets that were left unclaimed. That kind of energy doesn't just dissapear.

OCD, however, decides that you are not going to get away with anything, even a thought or a little tingle which would otherwise remain unnoticed.

It feeds on your fears and your maladaptive yet understandable efforts to self-regulate.

If I had had access to support at an earlier age I would have suffered much, much less.

Recently, I ordered a newly published book, ‘Pure O’: Letting Go of Obsessive Thoughts with Acceptence and Commitment Therapy by Chad Lejeune PHD, only to disappointingly discover that the topic of ‘P’ OCD was completely missing (let me know if I'm wrong!). In the sections on Harm OCD or Sexual OCD there was not a single mention of it; and while I didn’t buy the book specifically for that reason, I did expect it to be mentioned as it can be a prevalent issue for many with 'Pure O'.

Its absence was triggering, it reinforced the shame and exclusion that I felt for so long. I started to question why the author would choose to omit even a brief mention of it and before long I was considering that he thought, 'it was too disgusting to write about' or that he didn't believe in the diagnosis.

I expected representation; and while my own issues around shame do mean that I find even typing the ‘P’ word difficult, I still do my best to bring attention to this form of OCD. It was not until I was in my early twenties that I found out that it existed; I suffered so much because of the absence of information. I had expected that a clinical psychologist would include it in a modern self-help book for ‘Pure’ O, and it is frankly a lost opportunity and verging on insulting.

I still get triggered, sometimes because I am feeling more vulnerable and sometimes completely out of the blue an image or post on social media will come up about a child and that unsettles me. The topic of paedophilia is also everywhere and we are constantly reminded that people are committing crimes against children and getting away with it.

I wish that I didn’t have this thing that I hate about myself, even if logically I know it is my OCD, it still hurts to think of myself and compare myself as that 'type of person'.

But OCD is not logical, and we can’t police our bodies, as noticing is in fact a feeling in itself. There is also ‘arousal non-concordance’, which women are especially are prone to – and who knows what goes on when subconscious connections in the brain are triggered?

My message to anyone else suffering is, please don’t condemn yourself based on what you think you feel, or a decision that you made long before you got any further information.

Even if you don’t trust that the information applies to you, you are not alone. OCD is very good at convincing you that you are a bad person and loves to increase doubt while in the pursuit of unobtainable certainty.

I would be willing to bet that you got a message from either one or both parents, that you weren’t good enough, or that you were unlikeable in some way. Or perhaps your childhood was unstable and threatening in some way.

You probably carried the unliked parts of them and tried to work out why you felt so unworthy. You tried to feel safe when things were out of control. The fear of uncertainty, rejection and difference ignites OCD - as it is a dysfunctional way of seeking regulation.

You are trying to help yourself, you always were, so keep going and get help for your OCD, you don’t need to be isolated or punish yourself any longer.