How I Overcame Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder: A Journey from Struggle to Recovery

Originally from Lu'an, Anhui Province, I work as a grassroots civil servant. My battle with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) began during middle school around 1998, shortly after transferring from Shanghai to a local town school. This transition marked the beginning of a long and silent struggle that would shape much of my adolescence and early adulthood.

Early Signs and Misunderstanding

At first, I didn't realize anything was wrong. I simply felt different. In class, I struggled to focus, often staring blankly at textbooks for minutes on end. Reading became a repetitive cycle—rereading the same paragraphs over and over, convinced I hadn't truly understood them. What I now recognize as classic OCD symptoms were, back then, just confusing habits I couldn't explain. I assumed everyone studied this way, but deep down, I knew I was falling behind.

Academic Challenges and Emotional Toll

This mental loop severely impacted my academic performance. Despite putting in excessive hours, my efficiency remained low. I failed to get into a top-tier high school and ended up attending a regular local institution. The OCD persisted, following me like a shadow through high school. By the time I reached senior year, the pressure of college entrance exams intensified everything.

I decided to retake the Gaokao, enrolling in a prep program in the county seat. That year, my symptoms worsened. Anxiety drained my energy. I lost weight, suffered from chronic insomnia, and found myself trapped in endless loops of overthinking. Social interactions became tense—I grew sensitive, withdrawn, and isolated. At times, I feared I was losing my mind, though I never voiced these concerns to anyone. The stigma around mental health kept me silent.

College Years: Coping in Silence

Eventually, I barely made it into a third-tier university. Relieved to escape the exam grind, I hoped for a fresh start. While college life was less stressful academically, my OCD didn't disappear. I spent most of my time in libraries or study rooms, trying to compensate for my slow processing speed with sheer volume of effort.

My major wasn't one I was passionate about, and I felt increasingly uncertain about my future. I avoided social events, never dated, and rarely participated in campus life. Instead, I waged a quiet war against intrusive thoughts and compulsive behaviors. Those years passed slowly, each semester a test of endurance rather than growth.

Finding Stability—and a New Motivation

After graduation, seeking stability, I took the civil service exam twice before finally securing a position in a small town administrative office. The job was routine, sometimes monotonous, but it provided the predictability I craved. Gradually, I adjusted to the rhythm of bureaucratic work and even began to appreciate its low-pressure environment.

Yet, a deeper desire lingered. I wanted more—to grow, to achieve, to feel truly alive. But I knew my OCD was holding me back. It clouded my thinking, sapped my motivation, and left me emotionally exhausted. I realized that if I ever wanted to move forward, I needed to confront this condition head-on.

The Turning Point: Diagnosis and Treatment

My awakening came unexpectedly. I read a news story about a successful entrepreneur who had taken his own life due to untreated OCD. His experience mirrored mine so closely that it hit me like lightning—I wasn't just "overthinking" or "being too hard on myself." I had a real, diagnosable mental health condition.

Determined to seek help, I visited multiple psychiatric departments at tertiary hospitals in my city. After thorough evaluations, I received an official diagnosis: Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Hearing those words brought mixed emotions—relief at finally having a name for my suffering, but also fear. Would this define me forever? Could I ever recover?

Medication and Its Limits

My psychiatrist recommended a conservative approach: medication combined with regular therapy sessions. I committed to the process and took prescribed antidepressants for two full years. Over time, the intense anxiety softened. I could breathe easier, sleep slightly better, and function more normally at work.

But the core symptoms remained. Worse, the medication brought side effects—mental fog, reduced libido, and persistent fatigue. I began to feel like a shell of myself. Despite medical guidance, I made the difficult decision to taper off the drugs under supervision, realizing that pills alone wouldn't free me from OCD's grip.

Therapy: Trial, Error, and Breakthrough

I turned to online forums and support groups, researching alternative treatments. I tried several therapists, but many felt disconnected from my reality. Their techniques seemed generic, lacking depth or empathy. Some sessions felt like talking to a wall—polite, structured, but ultimately ineffective.

I grew frustrated, skeptical, and impatient. Was recovery even possible? Then, I met a therapist who changed everything. He specialized in complex, long-standing cases of OCD and had treated hundreds of patients. More importantly, he listened—not just to my symptoms, but to my story.

Building Trust and Commitment

He pointed out something crucial: my pattern of switching therapists too quickly. Each time, just as trust began to form, I'd lose hope and search for someone new. This disrupted continuity and undermined progress. Hearing this was humbling. I had been treating therapy like a quick fix, not a journey.

He explained that lasting change requires time, consistency, and active participation. For deep-rooted OCD, short-term interventions rarely suffice. He introduced me to evidence-based approaches like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP), tailored to my personal triggers and thought patterns.

The Path to Recovery

With renewed commitment, I embraced the process. I completed homework assignments, practiced mindfulness, and gradually exposed myself to anxiety-provoking situations without giving in to compulsions. There were setbacks, moments of doubt, and days when old habits resurfaced. But slowly, steadily, I gained control.

The breakthrough wasn't sudden—it was cumulative. I learned to accept uncertainty. I stopped fighting my thoughts and instead observed them without judgment. I rebuilt confidence by setting small, achievable goals both in therapy and daily life.

• Find the right therapist: Compatibility matters more than credentials alone.
• Commit to the long term: OCD recovery isn't linear; patience is essential.
• Do the work: Therapy extends beyond the session—homework and self-practice are vital.
• Accept, don't resist: Trying to eliminate symptoms often strengthens them. Learning to live with discomfort is transformative.

Today, I still have moments of obsessive thinking, but they no longer control me. I manage my workload effectively, maintain healthier relationships, and engage more fully in life. My career has progressed, and I've found fulfillment outside of work—something I once thought impossible.

This journey taught me that healing isn't about perfection. It's about progress, resilience, and reclaiming agency over your mind. If you're struggling with OCD, know this: recovery is possible. It takes courage to begin, consistency to continue, and faith to believe you can emerge stronger on the other side.

Note: This case has been shared with the individual's written consent and adapted using professional ethical guidelines to protect privacy.