I first noticed the at age seven. I had become consumed by the question of whether I was a sinner while learning about religion at my Catholic school. After school I would for hours to determine whether I was going to hell. This cycle lasted for almost a year before I told my parents. Although they transferred me to a public school and the religious obsessions stopped, it wasn’t long until other thoughts intruded my mind.
At home, I became fixated on making sure my pillow was in the centre of my bed. I would rest for only five seconds before I felt the need to check again. While it was a night ritual, I would remind myself frequently throughout the day and I kept up this compulsion for months believing it helped me relax.
During late high school, I became concerned about clothes. With every purchase I would inevitably think there was something wrong with the style or fit. I would spend days trying to get rid of this feeling by returning and exchanging the clothes. But, as soon as I changed them I’d go through the same cycle. I would do this until I ran out of stores and ended up where I started. When I finally worked up the courage to wear something, I’d feel sick, believing I made the wrong choice. That’s one aspect of my disorder that I still have today.
In my late teens I turned to heavy drinking to calm my racing mind. I thought maybe the thoughts would quiet if I drank enough. I knew it wasn’t working but it would help a little and that was enough for me to keep it up for three years.
Timothy Hillier was just 7 when he first started to notice intrusive thoughts. Photo: Supplied Source: Supplied
When I turned 20 I worked up the courage to write my parents a letter about all the things that played on my mind since I was a child. I was convinced my nagging thoughts were voices and believed I had schizophrenia. I went for a walk and left the letter for my mum to find. Not long after my parents took me to my GP, they said they always knew something wasn't right but they didn't think it was as serious as it was. My GP referred me onto a psychiatrist and I finally received an OCD diagnosis.
I had this fantasy that once I had a diagnosis there would be a clear path to recovery. In my first few months of exposure therapy my psychiatrist and I unpacked all compulsions. I would entertain a thought for a few minutes then try to withhold from the compulsion. At this point I hadn’t accepted the work that I had to put in to get better. I doubted how successful it would be and couldn’t completely engage with treatment.
At 24, I picked up a really distressing symptom. I had experimented in drugs to help with my social anxiety and I became afraid that there were still drugs in my mouth.
I would lick my lips and mash them together trying to get rid of any traces. This compulsion weighed heavily on my energy levels and had a high level of anxiety attached to it.
When I hit 25, I knew I couldn’t keep this up much longer and that I should properly medicate and commit to the exposure therapy. It was confronting and when I gave it my best shot I would feel dizzy and physically sick from the anxiety.
"Now if I find that I’m getting too orderly with my things at home I’ll mess it up a bit to gain some control."
I withheld the compulsion to lick my lips for 30 seconds, then to two minutes and over months worked up to a full day. Even after all that time I still believed there was something in my mouth.
After three decades, I still get overwhelmed by the strength and irrational nature of each compulsion. There are still grey areas where I wonder ‘Iis this a real worry or is this OCD? Am I managing it or is it managing me?’
With OCD it can be difficult to relate to people who are going through tough times because that is something I feel constantly. I’m less engaged because I’m constantly distracted by intrusive thoughts. Even now I haven’t had a romantic relationship because I’ve never thought that I could cope with so much going on in the background.
I’ve now been fully committed to exposure therapy for over a decade and I try to eliminate new habits quickly. Now if I find that I’m getting too orderly with my things at home I’ll mess it up a bit to gain some control. Sometimes it’s completely successful, other times it’s only partially successful, but it’s helped further along with medication.
I think the delay between the early manifestations and diagnosis is something we need to work on. I waited 13 years for my diagnosis and I am not an unusual case. Unfortunately, I think for me it is chronic, but if a young person can seek help earlier they have a better chance of responding to exposure therapy.
