Dear Church,
I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. And it’s perhaps the biggest thing that has built my faith...and the biggest thing that has attempted to break it.
I first developed symptoms of OCD when I was eight. I was diagnosed as a sophomore in college after having been previously diagnosed with anxiety. When I had heard “OCD” prior to my diagnosis, I had this stereotypical picture of someone who cleaned and organized everything. One look at my room was enough to know that I wasn’t “OCD”. With my “anxiety”, I had intrusive thoughts of wanting to kill myself- thoughts so disturbing, intrusive, and unwanted that I wouldn’t allow myself to sleep on many nights out of fear that I might do something to kill myself in my sleep. I had intrusive thoughts about germs and would wash my hands so much that they would bleed. I had intrusive thoughts about my family dying and, to ensure their safety, had a nightly routine where I would run around my house twice, weigh myself twice, and open & close my windows twice. If I didn’t do this, I was convinced that I would wake up the next morning to my family gone and it would be entirely my fault.
OCD is a complex disorder, but a general overview is that it is a mental health condition categorized by intrusive, distressing and unwanted obsessive thoughts and compulsions to complete irrational actions, in order to relieve the distress from those obsessive thoughts. For some, OCD involves having obsessions about cleanliness and organization, then performing compulsive acts to ensure that everything is “just right”- but this isn’t a fun organizational task like OCD is often portrayed through stereotypes. It’s distressing. For some, these compulsions can take hours and things still may not feel “just right”. Rationally, we might conceptualize the obsession and compulsion and realize that nothing bad will happen if everything isn’t organized or cleaned “just right”. OCD, however, does not operate in a world of rationally, but rather irrationality. While the rational brain might tell us that everything will be okay without being “just right”, the irrationality of OCD tells us that not having everything perfectly organized or cleaned is a recipe for disaster- it becomes distressing.
When I was younger, my OCD came in many forms. I experienced everything from suicidal obsessions to sexuality obsessions to contamination obsessions. My compulsions ranged from tapping surfaces (always in even numbers) to washing my hands constantly. But perhaps one of the most difficult types of OCD for me, which I encountered for the first time in high school, was Religious OCD, often known as scrupulosity. Within the Catholic faith, scrupulosity often takes the form of having obsessions of committing a mortal sin or a sin in general, which becomes distressing due to fear of the consequences associated with this, such as going to Hell. While committing a mortal sin, it may be rational to have a reaction of fear, guilt, or distress. However, for an individual who has scrupulosity, the action they believe to be a sin is often not a sin at all. Or the action they believe is grave enough to be a mortal sin, is in fact venial and less weighty than their assessment. Scrupulous compulsions within the Catholic faith may include seeking reassurance of nature/gravity of the action from a trusted Catholic source and/or going to Confession excessively.
When I learned of mortal sin, I was taught that if you commit one and die before going to Confession, you will go straight to Hell. This, to me, was terrifying. I was taught that God was loving, merciful, and good. I perceived the teaching on mortal sin to not align with the God I knew. How could the God I knew be so cruel that He would send me to Hell for one instance of falling into my broken humanity?
I now have a better understanding of the teaching of mortal sin and how we can remedy this teaching with a God who is loving, merciful and good. But this initial perception of mortal sin and its consequences has shaped my brain and my faith ever since.
Before learning about mortal sin, my faith helped me to stand up to my OCD. For years, I was wrecked with obsessions and compulsions, feeling trapped in my own brain. When I became involved in my youth group in high school, I began to know God. And I began to know His power. I made the most progress in combating my OCD in those years, realizing that no obsession or compulsion was bigger than God. With God by my side, my obsessions became less distressing and the compulsions became less excessive. I began to realize that many of the bad things that I expected to happen due to OCD were irrational- and even if they did happen, they were nothing that God and I couldn’t handle (Brief side-note: At the time, I did not share any of my struggles with OCD with my family out of fear and therefore did not seek psychotherapy- looking back, I wish I had. Relying on God is vital, but God also has given so many people gifts to be good therapists who are equipped to help).
OCD forced me to have a level of trust in God much greater than any I had ever experienced. OCD built my faith.
But when I became scrupulous, my faith started to break. Confession became a compulsion- I only went out of fear, not love of God or sorrow for my sinfulness. I began to confess my intrusive thoughts, especially the scariest ones, thinking that they were sins even though they weren’t and didn’t need to be confessed. Many times, I would get judgmental looks from the priests when I confessed these, often leaving me feeling as if Christ Himself didn’t love me. This broke me. I began to perceive God as an evil tyrant who ultimately didn’t care about me. This perception caused me to suffer all the more.
Scrupulosity defined my life for years. I made many moral and life decisions out of fear. I followed Church teaching blindly because I thought that if I didn’t, I would go straight to Hell forever. In these integral years, when many of my friends left the Church or stopped practicing, I stayed. And often, I am faced with the reality that if I did not have OCD and, specifically Scrupulosity, I may have left the Church with them.
Two years ago, after a Confession with a priest in which I confessed some pretty distressing intrusive thoughts and received a somewhat harsh response, I began to contemplate leaving the Church. I figured that if I stayed or if I left, I would go to Hell. I began to look at my faith and realized that because of scrupulosity, it had been built on quicksand. I barely had a relationship with God. I was terrified of Him.
Yet, I have stayed. Perhaps out of fear. Perhaps out of trust. These past two years have been slow, but I’m learning that the ways scrupulosity has changed my perception of God and His Church does not mean that I don’t belong here. They don’t mean that I don’t love the Church and Her teachings. Within these years, I have often tried to run because I feel as if I am a fraud within the Church. But through work with a therapist and some good, holy priests, I am continually uncovering reasons why this is a lie. Through stripping away the lies, I am slowly rebuilding a relationship with a God who has never stopped loving me and waiting for me to run back into His arms.
To those who have a mental health condition that can make it hard to feel as if you belong in the Church: you belong. Our sufferings are unique but beautiful. Our stories are important to share. By sharing them with others, we give others and ourselves a profound opportunity to embrace the sufferings of Christ, who Himself endured mental sufferings.
And to those within the Church who do not have a mental health condition: please, be gentle with those of us who do. Ask questions when appropriate. Seek to listen. Educate yourself on the ways mental health conditions can impact the relationship an individual may have with the Church and God Himself.
Christ knows our sufferings and He knows our stories. He knows, more so than us, how our experiences, the ways we grow through our sufferings and how our unique stories will foster compassion, strength and beauty within the Church. Everyday, I look forward to learning what He is doing with my experiences and sufferings. I know that He is only just beginning to write the story of my life. And I know that, through its hills and valleys, He will write something beautiful.
In Christ,
A Catholic with OCD