Last November, around 8:30 p.m., I found myself sitting down with my spouse, Sarah, to share some important news: I had been diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). The setting was our living room, a rare moment of quiet since our three kids were already tucked in bed, giving us a much-needed opportunity to talk.
I began by saying, “The therapist informed me that I have OCD, or at least I did. Over the years, I’ve learned to manage it pretty well on my own. While I still have some ‘tics,’ I generally lead a relatively normal life.” We often refer to her simply as “The Therapist,” not out of disrespect—she has a name and a PhD—but because it lightens the gravity of the situation.
A few weeks prior, I had to leave work due to mounting stress, which pushed me to seek therapy for the first time in 15 years. I had long avoided it, feeling that acknowledging my mental health struggles would make them too official. Now, having a name for my condition was both a relief and a challenge, especially when it came to explaining it to my wife of over a decade.
Sarah looked at me with genuine concern, her brow slightly furrowed, and asked, “What does that really mean?” The term OCD is often misused; people associate it with being overly tidy or obsessively organizing their belongings. In reality, my experience was far more complex. I don’t fit the Hollywood stereotype of OCD—I’m not excessively clean, and my living space is often chaotic.
Trying to explain something that feels so nebulous, even to me, was daunting. When I experience a full-blown panic attack, it’s a visceral reality that’s frustrating and terrifying. I explained to Sarah that OCD is heavily tied to anxiety and a desire for control. I shared how my sleep issues manifest; if I don’t adhere to a strict bedtime or if life becomes too overwhelming, my anxiety spikes.
This may not sound like much to some, but it took years to reach this understanding. In the past, I would have panic attacks if my routine was disrupted. I recall a time when I followed an exact regimen for nearly three years, and the pressure was suffocating. I even contemplated suicide during those difficult moments.
As I unfolded these layers to Sarah, I felt a wave of fear wash over me. Mental illness doesn’t simply vanish; it’s a continuous part of your life, and it’s not something that can be fixed with a pill or therapy alone. Having a label for my struggles made them feel more significant, and I worried about how Sarah would react to this new reality that would inevitably affect our marriage.
I’ve often wondered if this fear is common among those dealing with mental health issues. The stigma surrounding these conditions is challenging; I wish society viewed mental illness as comparable to physical ailments like diabetes. Unfortunately, the expectation often seems to be that one should just “tough it out” and move on.
Despite my worries, I knew deep down that Sarah had witnessed the effects of my OCD over the years. Still, as I shared my diagnosis, I felt uncertain about her response and that fear was daunting. “What do you think?” I asked. “Does this scare you?”
She leaned back, crossed her legs, and shrugged—not in a dismissive way but rather in a manner that conveyed solidarity. It was as if she was saying, “We’re in this together,” and “This doesn’t change how I feel about you.” Although she didn’t say much, her response was precisely what I needed at that moment.
With OCD, it’s easy to blow small issues out of proportion. Sarah’s calm acceptance reassured me that our relationship remained strong despite my struggles. That moment, which felt anticlimactic yet profound, provided me with comfort I hadn’t anticipated.
If you’re interested in learning more about self insemination and home insemination kits, sites like Make a Mom offer valuable resources. Additionally, for insights about intrauterine insemination, check out NHS.
In summary, sharing my OCD diagnosis with Sarah was an unexpectedly calm experience. Her supportive reaction reassured me that our bond was unshaken by my struggles with mental illness.