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Hijacked by worry, helped by therapy

March 9, 2008 12:16 am

IWAS 6 YEARS OLD when I discovered I was different.

My family was stationed in Hawaii, my father smack-dab in the middle of his Marine Corps career. I remember how the humidity stuck to us like a second skin, and how it seemed as if there were more banana trees than there were people.

I was just like every other cow-licked kid who finger-painted his way through childhood. I collected Muscle Men, ate my weight in candy and sat "too close" to the television.

In one night, my life changed.

I remember lying in bed, trying to suppress a strange urge that had welled up in my gut. With each racing thought, the feeling grew stronger and harder to control. After my parents tucked me in, I gave in to the urge and told them I loved them--seven times in a row. That random burst of dialogue was followed by my wishing them happiness for every holiday that existed.

Night after night, my strange behavior broke the innocent silence of the bedroom. What I didn't know was that I was experiencing my first bout with obsessive-compulsive disorder, a disease that, studies say, affects one in 200 children and one in 40 adults.

According to the Obsessive Compulsive Foundation, an international organization that provides support for OCD sufferers, "OCD is a neurological disorder defined by recurrent, unwelcome thoughts (obsessions) and repetitive behaviors (compulsions) that OCD sufferers feel driven to perform."

Many researchers believe that OCD is caused by a lack of serotonin in the brain, and some feel that it is genetic, though this is not conclusive.

"We are still trying to understand the role of genes and environment in OCD, as well as identify the brain circuits involved," said Dr. James Leckman, a child psychiatrist and director of research at Yale University School of Medicine.

WISHING FOR A NEW MIND

Growing up, OCD was an impressive, everyday factor. In middle school, I did everything in fours. I checked and re-checked locked doors, I repeated sentences and I put things in their "exact" order. At night, checking for the Bogeyman was a 16-step process.

In high school, while my friends were navigating their way through puberty, I stayed busy carrying my neurological cross. I obsessed about everything from suicide and sexuality to getting beaten up and dating. I went to bed every night wishing I'd wake up with a new mind. I never did.

Although I knew my obsessions didn't reflect who I was or how I truly felt, my anxiety compelled me to think them anyway.

SAME SONG, NEXT VERSE

A trait of OCD sufferers is that we are acutely aware of our behavior, but feel powerless against it. Our anxiety pushes our thoughts and actions into overdrive, forcing us to become nervous bystanders to the car wreck that is our condition.

I call it the broken-record disease.

For non-sufferers, shooing away unwanted thoughts can be as simple as changing the subject. For OCD sufferers, it isn't that easy. The disease can lock in on a thought for weeks, months and even years. It's like having a jukebox in your head, and it's playing a broken record. A song--in this case, an obsession--is played over and over again until you forget about it or it's replaced by another annoying tune. The stronger the obsession, the more you want to "explain it out" of your mind.

In the case of compulsions, the impact of an unwanted thought can be so gut-wrenching that the sufferer tries to stop it by repeatedly performing rituals. Unfortunately, giving in to the obsession or compulsion only makes OCD stronger.

The good news: Treatment is available.

MANAGING OCD

Medication and psychotherapy--specifically cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT)--are the most popular forms of treatment for OCD.

With medication, there is usually a 20 percent to 30 percent improvement and sometimes more, Leckman said. Though OCD cannot be cured, medication can keep things in control while people undergo psychotherapy.

Many researchers believe an important step in treatment is awareness of the disease.

"In my experience, the best responses come from CBT and the determination of the individual to 'master' his or her own mind," Leckman said. "Spotting the invitation [to give into OCD] as it arises, seeing it for what it is and doing something else instead is the best approach."

For others, Leckman added, "Medications have made a huge difference."

I started seeing a psychiatrist and taking medication when I was 16--10 years after OCD first KO'd me. Up until then, I hadn't been sure what was ailing me. I knew I was "different," I just didn't know why.

Seeking treatment as a teenager opened my eyes to OCD, but it did little to assuage my obsessions.

OCD UNIVERSITY

When I graduated from high school, I thought my bad days were behind me. I was wrong. In college, my OCD pinned me to the proverbial mat.

I recall a lengthy phone call with my mom. She asked me if I was lonely in college. I instinctively replied: "I'm never alone, mom. I have OCD." And that was true.

OCD was like a stubborn girlfriend who wasted my time, spent my energy and never bothered to apologize. For four long years, I didn't know how to break up with her.

College was supposed to be the best years of my life. But while other students were living it up, I was convincing myself of things I already knew to be true. Yes, I love women. No, I'm not gay. Yes, I love life. No, I'm not depressed. Yes, I'm smart. No, I won't flunk out.

There was a rotisserie of obsessions repeatedly churning in my mind. I worried nonstop, and it cost me memories. While I couldn't prevent this from happening, I began to realize that I could change my life.

I just needed the right tools.

THE LONG ROAD AHEAD

Today I'm 26 years old, and I'm still packing my mental shed with the right equipment to tackle OCD. I'm taking medication, I see a psychiatrist and I'm learning to accept this serotonin scar. It's a tough battle, but I'm making progress.

In the past 20 years, I've experienced more despair than a season of Lifetime tear-jerkers, acted out more compulsions than I can count and obsessed for months--even years-- about the worst things imaginable. And now I'm stronger for it.

By seeking treatment and educating myself about the A-to-Zs of OCD, I'm learning how to hear a different tune.

Nicholas Addison Thomas says his mother has helped him more than words can describe. He can be reached at n.addison.
Email: thomas@gmail.com.