Like a real diagnose I mean.
I had a mild social anxiety disorder, but I was not officially diagnosed with and obsessive-compulsive disorder for years, which lead to an age of doubts and suffering. When people think of OCD it’s usually about germs, control freaks, or worries about whether you’ve locked the door. But, as with many mental health problems, it’s just not that easy. It cost me months of anxiety, nights without sleep, problems at work and zero effect from medical treatment.
I was told to increase doses, that I had Borderline disorder, that maybe I was not yet realizing I was getting better. Only when my second therapist advised me to visit a psychiatrist and we began talking about depression and why exactly it all returned to fears that never proved right but still persisted and ruined my life… that’s when OCD came up. The thing is, it’s not about a particular set of fears or one particular obsession. It’s about the pattern that goes on and on, often in such ways that you don’t even see it. I’d become obsessed about my health and new moles, then switch to thinking about my dog’s health. Then for days I’d worry about my future, that I was secretly homosexual, that I had no mental problems at all but some disease… My brain would cling to each of these doubts and obsess about it. Then I’d come to the therapist and we would talk about manias... I began to question if he actually knew what was wrong with me, but not soon enough.
I’m super thankful that in the end, I was prescribed antidepressants, with a diagnosis somewhat better than the initial one. But how many people like me waste time and money being misdiagnosed?
