Back in 2018, I was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. OCD stood in the forefront of my life for about two years. For a long time I wasn’t even sure I had depression anymore because I was struggling with OCD the most.
Frankly it sucked and I was always drugged up to keep myself sane. But in reality all the medicines did make me sleepy and caused me to sleep seventy percent of the day.
What seemed to actually help my OCD was getting off my medicine, but this brought a new problem. My depression got worse. It was as if I just switched mental illnesses. The only thing that was (is) consistent is my anxiety.
As my depression worsen it did feel as though I didn’t have OCD. My compulsions were getting better and I was washing my hands less. I felt great that my OCD was getting better, but at the same time it may not have been.
My OCD might have only been getting better because I was so depressed. It could be that my brain can only handle one mental illness at a time.
To be frank I rather be OCD than depressed. Sitting in self pity does nothing except make you feel as though you want to die. But I don’t want to die. It doesn’t matter how strong the feeling is.
Even though my OCD’s presence isn’t as strong as it is before, I know that it is still there. As long as my depression is taking over, I will forget I have OCD.