Rachella’s story

"Seeing others share their stories allows me to feel seen and helps me understand myself better."

My first experiences of obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD)

Growing up, there were a lot of rules I learnt to follow. Some of them more obvious, like looking left and right before crossing the road and making sure I ate my vegetables. But the one that stuck with me was the idea that as a woman of colour, I was often expected to work harder than my peers in order to be seen in the same light. I could never just be good or okay. I had to be twice as good. I couldn’t afford to mess up or make mistakes.

I started applying unrealistic pressure to myself and felt guilty for any perceived instances of failure. I later came to understand how this contributed to the way my OCD manifested itself as moral scrupulosity, an excessive concern with morality and values.

My OCD began with little things – just wanting to be on the safe side or taking precautions for my health. And then it began to spiral into not sleeping well, being distracted at work, apathy for everything and frustration.

I had my first big OCD flare-up in 2023 after experiencing a traumatic event. I came away thinking that maybe if I couldn’t protect myself, at least I could try to protect others. I spent hours researching infectious or untreatable illnesses, avoided dating and intimacy in case I caused harm, and avoided touching items in case I’d make people sick.

I remember the breaking point was when I started going to clinics to get checked out for things. I knew what I was doing was irrational. I was giving fake names and going to different locations, trying to cover my tracks.

Being diagnosed with OCD

One day, I snuck out from work and went to a clinic for another check-up. The nurse looked through my records and asked me to tell her exactly what was going on with me. It felt like the first time someone had spotted that something wasn’t right with me. Together, we submitted a self-referral form to access mental health support.

With medication and therapy, these symptoms seemed to fade into the background. But in late 2025, a series of stressors relating to work, medication and relationships led to another big flare-up.

It took me surprisingly long to recognise that what I had was OCD. Even my therapists and GP initially chalked my behaviour up to health anxiety or my neurodivergence.

This is a testament to how misunderstood OCD can be.

I really struggled with the ups and downs of my condition. On good days, I convinced myself that I’d made everything up. On bad days, I was reminded that this wasn’t something that would just go away if I ‘toughed it out’.

Dealing with intrusive thoughts

My intrusive thoughts are like a jack-in-the-box. When you wind the box, out jumps the puppet. You’re startled, your heart races, it’s an unpleasant surprise. Your instinct is to shove the puppet back into the box.

When you wind it again, inevitably the puppet will pop back up.

But if you don’t push the puppet back into the box, you let it remain outside. No matter how much you wind the box, it can’t harm you anymore because you’ve removed the threat from it.

That’s how I see my intrusive thoughts.

Why sharing lived experience is so important

OCD can be debilitating. One of the worst parts is the intense loneliness it can make you feel. I didn’t just feel isolated from others but from myself, feeling like I didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I felt as though no one was dealing with what I was. I didn’t even want to share the extent of my thoughts with my friends or therapists because I was so determined to deal with everything by myself and because I was worried about what people would think my thoughts said about me as a person.

Seeing others share their stories allows me to feel seen and helps me understand myself better. I can understand what factors trigger me and how my OCD impacts my life as well as those around me. I know I’ll encounter people who may not truly understand me or my struggles. But in the end, I understand myself better, meaning that when I feel trapped in darkness, I know I’m not alone in what I’m experiencing.

Information and support

 
Obsessive compulsive disorder
 
Neurodiversity and mental health