How Cursing My Flight Set Me Free

I want to explain the shift in my beliefs, and to do that, I have to share something personal — I have severe OCD — and it is nothing like you imagine.

Real OCD is so far from the quirky version portrayed on TV that it took 17 years for me to realize I had it.

To anyone who thinks they have experienced a tinge of OCD when their room wasn’t perfectly arranged or they weren’t sure whether they locked the door, that isn’t what OCD is like.

It’s more like believing you ran someone over with your car and then being forced to carry on the rest of your mundane day in extreme horror and panic. People with OCD know their fears are irrational. The more they try to dispute their irrational fears, the more anxious they feel. You cannot “out logic” OCD.

The treatment for OCD requires systematically exposing yourself to whatever you’re terrified of. It is called Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP). For example, a person who is super afraid of contracting an illness may be asked to go into a place they consider to be contaminated. They take the risk even if they believe they really could get sick.

Before I received treatment with Exposure and Response Prevention, this is what my life was like.

*OCD focusing on superstitions is called Magical Thinking OCD*

The livable undercurrent of the disorder:

I would reach into my closet, running my fingers through the hanging sweaters, I’d choose one. A second later, I would become terrified to put it on because if I did, I was scared that my day would be bad. I’d hang it up and reach for another and another, until I felt like the sweater wouldn’t cause a bad day.
I would wash my face and stare into the mirror finding every possible imperfection. I’d find them where they didn’t exist. I’d pick at them until my face was covered in dozens of fresh red sores. I’d apply a mask or medicated treatment to “undo” the damage, rinse it off, pick again, and repeat. Before I knew it, two hours had passed. For the remainder of the day, I would suffer from a sticky conscious awareness that I my damaged face. I wanted to stop damaging my face and my skin, but I couldn’t.
Finally, I would leave the house with a detached anxiety hanging over me. As I was driving, vivid, maimed bodies and accidents would uncontrollably flash across my mind’s eye. I’d feel the sensation of my car plunging into the vehicles in front of me. I’d brace myself. My body would surge with anxiety, feeling certain that these disturbing images and sensations were an omen of ill events to come. I would try my best to forget them or to counteract them with positive music, affirmations, or sheer will power alone. The more I pushed, the more they stuck around.
I agonized over saying the wrong thing or being misunderstood. Did I utter a curse word without knowing it? I would check over and over again— rereading and rewording emails an average of 10 to 15 times each. Combing through my sent mail folder like my life depended on it. I was almost unable to send emails at certain points because even after not finding a curse word, I still felt sure there was one there.
I’d rehearse conversations and replay them in my head for hours—making sure I didn’t or wouldn’t say anything “bad.”
I avoided touching all kinds of objects for fear of contracting an illness or being contaminated by an object’s bad “energy” and unknowingly attracting something bad into my life. Sometimes, I rearranged objects so that “good” objects were visible and “bad” objects (ones that caused anxiety) were hidden.
I feared breathing in chemicals —even organic ones—which made cleaning, traveling, and being in public difficult.
I was terrified of ingesting medications or supplements. If I could muster up taking anything—even run-of-the-mill cold medicine—I would compulsively research for hours before taking it. I’d ask friends and loved ones for reassurance. I would avoid being alone in case I died from a reaction.
If I ordered food at a restaurant, I’d closely monitor for thoughts of food poisoning (because I felt like if I had the thought, then I would definitely get food poisoning there and have to leave).
When I was faced with making simple decisions like buying a box of cereal, I’d spend an extraordinary amount of time agonizing over whether or not I was making the right decision. When it came to major life choices, I was paralyzed and couldn’t choose to move, take classes, and almost couldn’t buy a car. I’d compulsively ask for guidance and reassurance from friends, family, psychics, books, and my own oracle card decks.. never achieving a sense of confidence and remaining paralyzed.

And this was just the livable undercurrent of the disorder.

*OCD focusing on religion and morals is called Scrupulosity*

The Unlivable Realities OF OCD:

The worst part was doubting who I was at my core. OCD attacks what is most important to you. My spirituality and faith are extremely important to me. In my mind’s eye, I would see intrusive images of ugly, frightening spirits.

I was afraid to be alone because I was afraid of my mind.

I’d have intrusive thoughts like..

”What if you’re seeing these images because you’re possessed and don’t know it?”
“What if you’re evil and don’t know it?”
“What if God doesn’t love you and has abandoned you?”

Round and round these thoughts would go like a song stuck in my head. I would compulsively pray. I’d try to will all of the bad images, thoughts, and fears away. I’d surround myself with blessed and sacred objects. I’d sleep with two lights on (two in case one would burn out). I saw psychics, priests, and healers. One time I even burnt a whole bundle of sage. Nothing stopped the fear. When this theme of my OCD was at its worst, I fainted in a parking lot after months of the highest anxiety you could imagine. I wanted to give up.

I believed in the law of attraction. I constantly lived in fear of “attracting” a bad event or situation to me. To use an analogy - just like the stereotypical version of an OCD person washing their hands 50 times in a row to remove a contaminant, I would metaphorically “wash” away the bad thoughts. To do my compulsive mental “washing” I would use techniques like neutralizing the thoughts with better ones. I avoided anything that could trigger a negative thought.

Aside from my faith, I value knowledge, so my OCD attacked that too. I doubted information that I certainly knew. I’d check appliances, directions, and spend hours researching topics I already knew about because I wanted to know “for sure.”

At night, I still didn’t get a break. There were nights I’d wake up in the middle of a panic attack unable to breathe —certain I was dying.

While this seems pretty varied, these are just a few of my daily obsessions. These didn’t occur just once; they occurred every day of my life.

On average, 8 hours of my day was lost to both obsessions and compulsions.

The Healing Process:

Many people offered to help me over the years. I tried homeopathic remedies, energy healing, diets, exercise, using the law of attraction, following self-help workbooks, identifying the “root” cause, EFT Tapping, esoteric surgery, receiving psychic readings, and traditional therapy. [Unfortunately, most therapists have no idea about OCD treatment and actually do more harm than good. Only therapists who are trained in the scientifically-backed treatment (ERP) can help.]

After getting into the correct type of therapy and using Exposure and Response Prevention, I achieved wellbeing in only 4 months.

I spent 17 years circulating on an endless hamster-wheel of agony when I could have been well in just a few months. I’m sharing my story to raise awareness. This disorder is real and treatable. If I could spare someone else 17 years of improper treatment, this vulnerable post has been worth it.

But moreover, I’m explaining my philosophical shift. To those of you who are not sure what to make of my shift in beliefs, let me explain to you what my new beliefs have given me.

This is what my life is like after treatment with Exposure & Response Prevention.

A Picture of Recovery:

Last night, I went to bed alone in the darkness. I felt unafraid and comfortable. I did not need two lights, endless prayers, or music to feel okay. I drifted off to sleep.

Before the sun rose this morning, I drove to the airport alone. Instead of checking directions repeatedly or rehearsing conversations, I listened to cheesy classic hits and felt excited. When I arrived at the airport, I looked up and noticed the stars twinkling in the night sky. I felt so peaceful I almost cried tears of joy.

I drank a cup of coffee and boarded my flight with no anxiety. The best part? I am sitting on an airplane that I willed to crash. Remember, I was terrified of bad thoughts or attracting bad things to myself. As a monumental “screw you” to my OCD, I cursed my flight as an exposure exercise. I’m floating 30,000 feet in the air and I am free.

How I recovered

I sat with my anxiety.

I accepted discomfort and uncertainty.

I allowed the intrusive thoughts, images, and feelings.

I accepted that the bad things I fear could happen. I don’t fight them.

I systematically figured out what made me afraid and chose to trigger my own anxiety.

I approached what I feared directly and willingly.

I willed bad things to myself, put on unlucky shirts, ate food I thought could poison me, took medications I thought could permanently harm me, touched objects that were contaminated, breathed in chemicals, and hardest of all —accepted I could be evil and not know it. I accepted I may not love God enough or God could have abandoned me long ago. I accepted that the bad thoughts I think could manifest in the world (and if they do, it will be all my fault). When I wake up panicky and unable to breathe, I accept that I may die.

I know these tools sound counterintuitive.

But they not only saved my life, they gave me a life.

Recovery from OCD is difficult and you are never exactly cured. I still occasionally get intrusive thoughts and anxiety. The difference is that I can handle them now and I can experience joy, peace, and hope. I will have to use the tools I’ve learned (like ERP) for the rest of my life, but OCD does not run my life. In fact, now it is such a minimal part of my life that I don’t think about it.

To all of you who want to be free— you can be.

And now my cursed flight has just landed.

- Danyelle

What It Feels Like to Have OCD & to Recover