How Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder Became A Personality Quirk
A week had passed by the time Caleb (a pseudonym) had made it out of his bed for something other than the intricate rituals that haunted his every waking moment. As he made his way to the fridge, he felt himself slipping into the familiar compulsions, actions that he must take or deal with the consequences. The death of his loved ones. Disaster striking. He would walk in certain patterns down the hall, jumping over certain lucky spots on the floor, avoiding others. By the end of it, Caleb would be drenched in sweat. He had since stopped counting the days in a row that he wore the same outfit, basketball shorts and a gray t-shirt. He knew that if he switched them out, death would come knocking.
When one thinks about obsessive-compulsive disorder, they likely imagine the hundreds of memes cluttering Facebook, images of pencils lined up perfectly in a row, gummy bears assorted by colour with cheeky captions declaring “why does this make my OCD happy?”. In popular culture, OCD can be seen as a reason for a tidy home, a fun quirk that can be splashed across t-shirts and mugs and dropped in casual conversation. What they’re not imagining is the persistent fear, the carousel of anticipating disaster and doing something— anything— to make the thoughts stop. They’re not imagining the one in forty adults who suffer from this oft-misunderstood illness.
So, what is OCD, and where do the misconceptions come from?
What is OCD?
Classified as a chronic anxiety disorder, OCD is an illness of duality. Sufferers have one thing in common: an intense obsession with a specific fear, and the performance rituals or compulsions as a defence against said fear. Think: “if I wash my hands twenty-three times, then I can be 100% sure that I don’t have AIDS”. The individual believes that by performing these compulsions, it will keep their fears from happening— even though the two can’t be correlated.
What is obsessive thinking?
Hafsa looks at her little sister one day, and the thought “she’s going to get hit by a car” pops into her mind. She can’t shake free of it. Like a broken record, images of her sister getting hit by a car, of attending the funeral play over and over. She vividly imagines the days, weeks, months of pain in the wake of her sister’s passing, waking up every morning wondering if today was going to be the day that she dies. Hafsa isn’t doing this willingly— the thoughts come whether she wants them or not.
On average, a human being has more than six-thousand thoughts a day[1], many of which are insignificant. Things like “remember to fold the laundry” or “did I leave the stove on?”. With OCD those thoughts can become stuck on a single obsession in an endless cycle of worry. Some have the fear of harming others or themselves— fear that they will sexually assault someone. Persistent doubts— did I really turn the stove off? Religious obsessions concerned with morality and blasphemy, terrified of angering God.
Hafsa fears that if she doesn’t perform certain rituals, her sister will indeed get hit by a car— a consequence of an action, or lack thereof. So she develops a compulsion.
What is a compulsion?
David is never quite sure if the heat appliances in his house are ever really turned off. If he leaves his stove on, the house will catch fire and he’ll lose everything. So before leaving the house, he conducts the intricate ritual of turning everything on and off twenty-nine times so he can be 100% sure that nothing burns down the house. It usually takes him an hour to check and re-check all the appliances to make sure that disaster doesn’t strike him unaware.
This is how OCD presents itself to the world; often mistaken as the quirky need for cleanliness, everyday objects lined up just so and mild annoyance when the tiles don’t line up on the floor. Like the tip of an iceberg, the compulsions are only a symptom of deeper obsession. They are a way to lessen anxiety, a form of magical thinking that if a specific action is formed, it will have consequences on the real world[2]. If Dave turns his stove on and off twenty-nine times, then he can be sure that the house won’t catch fire and burn down, even though there is no basis for it in reality. Nothing is being treated or accomplished— but for a brief moment, Dave has control over his anxiety-riddled brain.
Where does the stereotype come from?
Little research has been done into the source of where the popular misconception comes from. Some argue that the stereotype gained traction with meme culture, a product of early-aughts teens splashing colourful gifs across their MySpace page declaring an obscure mental illness for internet clout. Others posit that it is confused with obsessive-compulsive personality disorder, a condition that fits the OCD stereotype. The difference is in the name: OCPD is a personality disorder while OCD is classified as an anxiety disorder.
The main features of OCPD centre around a preoccupation with rules, focusing on trivial details and perfectionism at the expense of interpersonal relationships. Think about someone who must painstakingly scrub the floor tiles with a toothbrush. Not because they fear that if they don’t, mould will grow in the grout and disease will infect the family— but because that is how things must be done. The problem lies within the rigidity around rules, rather than the perceived consequences.
OCPD is one of the most prevalent personality disorders, with an estimated 2-8% of adults suffering from it. Given the proximity of names and the obsessiveness of both conditions, it’s easy to see where the confusion stems.
The good news is that, while OCD is chronic, it is an illness that can be treated. Through a combination of therapy and drugs, obsessions can be managed and compulsions can be lessened. As for Caleb, his OCD became severe enough that he had to enter a residential program for six months.
“It’s not a quirk, it doesn’t make me cute or unique. It’s like, obviously a serious disorder,” Caleb says in an interview. “It is more serious than common belief lets on.”
Daniela Ricchezza 