“Is My OCD a Curse?”

Having thoughts involuntarily imposed on you that are the utter moral opposite of who you are at the core. These unwanted thoughts seeming to plague every task, no matter how big or small. The overwhelming urge to engage in any and all compulsions, even if you recognize that they’re irrational. Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) can’t help but feel like a curse sometimes, right?

Or maybe a bad addiction. After all, anything that takes you away from the things you care about and value most is detrimental—and for me, OCD certainly did that.

The truth about feeling cursed by OCD

Growing up, I never went to the movies because I knew sitting still in a dark room for hours would do nothing but brew bad thoughts.

I would never have sleepovers in case I needed to ask my mom for reassurance about the falsehood of my obsessions.

I would never play the video games I wanted with friends because the action might give way to intrusive thoughts.

So yes, if you’ve ever found yourself feeling like your OCD was a curse, I’m with you. If OCD had a physical body, I would like to kick its ass.

But (I know, there is a “but”) is this really the right way to view OCD, as some forever curse? When viewing something as a curse, we can end up belittling our ability and will to overcome it. We cast it away and archetypically label it as an unfortunate, forever problem. We deprive ourselves of all that we could be if we faced and overcame its binds.

I am not here to undermine the gravity of this illness or the impact it poses on people’s lives, nor am I here to paint it as any kind of gift. Yet, I believe it’s important to acknowledge that sometimes, when you think you’ve been buried, you have actually been planted.

Taking a philosophical approach

To illustrate what I mean, let’s look at the idea of free will. Free will is a cornerstone argument in philosophy, and its basic premise is that we as human beings have the ability to make decisions and choices based on our own intuitions and desires, without the presumptuous influence of external forces.

That being said, free will can only exist if our reality offers us the choice between an action with a positive effect (something good) and one with a negative effect (something bad). This gives us something to wrestle with. Without having these things that we see as evil or as forms of suffering, the benevolence present in our lives would mean nothing. The best possible world is one where evil is presented, but rejected for a greater good. This decision determines our character.

So how does this idea relate to OCD? Well, by that logic, it’s a good thing that your OCD exists. I know that might seem like a stretch, but hear me out. The option of giving into your obsessions by doing a compulsion presents itself as something “bad.” Yet, if you choose to resist the “bad” and resist giving into your compulsion, then you’re doing something “good,” and by resisting, you ultimately become stronger. This is the concept that exposure and response (ERP) therapy is based on: By confronting the cause of your anxiety, you can become braver.

Shifting our perspective on OCD

It’s proven that simply changing the lens through which we view the world—changing the narrative—can provide a stress relief like no other. So how does one do that—change their perspective permanently?

In this fundamental perspective change, you begin to teach your brain not that OCD is a good thing, but that your ability to not succumb to its grip inevitably makes you a greater version of yourself. It’s just like how someone who lifts weights begins to welcome the endurance of pain and struggle in their workouts, because they know that through it, they will become stronger.

I don’t want this idea to be mistaken for one that trivializes OCD. It’s quite the opposite. By giving “the devil” (OCD) its due, you can fully appreciate yourself for being the hero that overcomes it.

This isn’t something that you should expect to happen overnight. Changing your perspective on how you see things is the same as changing your identity. Only two things can issue such change:

1. Time and repetition

The more you engage in something, the more it becomes second nature. Think about the scientific method, for example; its whole basis is that if something is repeated enough times and tested through a multitude of variables, it must be true.

2. Trauma

When I say trauma, I mean an event that’s heavy enough to make some sort of impact on you. When these life-altering events, whether good or bad, come into our lives, they tend to expedite the identity-shifting process. By changing our perspectives, we can change the narrative we impose on our lives. We have the ability to be whoever or whatever we want, depending on how we look at the world.

There is a passage from the book The Alchemist that I would love to share, as I think it encapsulates this point better than I ever could:

“Meanwhile, I want to ask you to do something,’ said the wise man, handing the boy a teaspoon that held two drops of oil. ‘As you wander around, carry this spoon with you without allowing the oil to spill.’ The boy began climbing and descending the many stairways of the palace, keeping his eyes fixed on the spoon. After two hours, he returned to the room where the wise man was. ‘Well,’ asked the wise man, ‘did you see the Persian tapestries that are hanging in my dining hall? Did you see the garden that it took the master gardener ten years to create? Did you notice the beautiful parchments in my library?

Then go back and observe the marvels of my world,’ said the wise man. ‘You cannot trust a man if you don’t know his house.’ Relieved, the boy picked up the spoon and returned to his exploration of the palace, this time observing all of the works of art on the ceilings and the walls. He saw the gardens, the mountains all around him, the beauty of the flowers, and the taste with which everything had been selected. Upon returning to the wise man, he related in detail everything he had seen.

But where are the drops of oil I entrusted to you?’ asked the wise man. Looking down at the spoon he held, the boy saw that the oil was gone. ‘Well, there is only one piece of advice I can give you,’ said the wisest of wise men. ‘The secret of happiness is to see all the marvels of the world, and never to forget the drops of oil on the spoon.”

All in all, as difficult as it might be, my hope is that you’ll never victimize yourself for having OCD. By doing so, you give it exactly what it wants. Instead, I hope you’ll recognize its grip, and know that by triumphing over it, you ultimately grow.