Overcoming OCD: How I Beat My Inner Demons and Got Accepted into a Top-Tier University
A Journey of Three Transformative Phases
Looking back over the past six to seven years, I feel surprisingly calm. There's no dramatic emotional surge—just a quiet flow of vivid memories passing through my mind like scenes from a film. I've come to see this journey as three distinct phases, each marking a deeper level of personal transformation. What began as a battle for survival evolved into a powerful story of resilience, healing, and academic achievement.
Phase One: Awareness, Struggle, and the Edge of Surrender
The first phase spanned roughly one to two years and was defined by intense internal conflict—awareness, resistance, desperation, and the constant temptation to give up. While symptoms of obsessive-compulsive tendencies appeared as early as elementary school, I didn't recognize them for what they were at the time. They faded after my primary school exams, possibly due to the sudden release of academic pressure. But they resurfaced in the second semester of middle school with full force.
I found myself trapped in irrational fears—calling home daily to ask my parents questions like, "If I thought something bad about a classmate, will it actually happen?" or "Will a dark thought in my head cause real harm?" These repetitive mental loops caused overwhelming anxiety, and I clung to phone calls with my parents for temporary relief.
Eventually, the burden became unbearable. I started making excuses to skip school, then stopped attending altogether. I stayed home, oscillating between numb detachment and emotional outbursts—threatening to run away, considering dropping out to work at a shop, even engaging in self-harming behaviors. My parents lived in constant fear and sorrow, often breaking down in tears. My older brother put his life on hold to support me, returning home just to be by my side.
During this period, I fought alone, fueled only by instinct and the unwavering love of my family. Progress was nonexistent. I had lost all hope in recovery, let alone academic success. I believed I would never learn again, never function normally. But my family refused to accept that narrative. Their persistence kept the door open—for which I'm eternally grateful. Without them, there would be no second chapter.
Phase Two: Seeking Help, Rebuilding, and Gradual Change
The next two to three years marked a turning point—defined by seeking professional help, reintegration into society, setbacks, and slow but meaningful change. My family never gave up. We visited psychiatrists at local clinics and major hospitals in Guangzhou, but the advice was mostly generic counseling with little practical impact. Some so-called treatments turned out to be scams, draining both money and hope. I still carry guilt for putting my family through those experiences.
It wasn't until my brother discovered a licensed therapist specializing in OCD treatment online that things began to shift. Skeptical but willing to try, I agreed—though I can't recall exactly why. That decision, made in uncertainty, changed everything. In 2015, I began consistent psychotherapy, a journey that continues to this day.
The Turning Point: Therapy That Actually Worked
This phase brought the most profound transformation of my life—restoring my ability to live, study, and eventually thrive. My first therapy session involved drawing two pictures: a house, a tree, and a person. At the time, I thought it was childish and pointless. Now I understand the depth behind that simple exercise—it was a window into my subconscious.
Over time, I learned foundational techniques: breathing exercises, mindfulness practices, and emotional regulation strategies. These weren't quick fixes, but subtle tools that reshaped my inner world. Breathing exercises, in particular, became a natural part of my daily routine—something I do automatically when stress arises.
One of the therapist's most effective strategies was surprisingly simple: he asked my father to drive me to the school gates every afternoon during class hours, circle once, and go home. No pressure to enter. Just exposure. This helped me psychologically reconnect with the idea of school without triggering panic.
Returning to School and Learning to Cope
After months of therapy, I made a bold decision: to repeat a grade and return to school. Walking back into the classroom felt surreal—facing unfamiliar peers, new teachers, and an environment that once terrified me. Though I was back, OCD symptoms persisted. There were periods of relief, followed by crushing waves of intrusive thoughts, anxiety, and depression.
Still, I was moving forward. I attended classes regularly, completed assignments, and slowly rebuilt my academic confidence. Initially, I relied heavily on therapy sessions—counting the days until I could talk to my counselor again. But over time, the focus shifted from dependency to empowerment.
My therapist began teaching me how to handle obsessions independently. Instead of fighting the symptoms, I learned healthier ways to respond. These lessons became core principles in my recovery:
- Acceptance Over Resistance: OCD isn't an enemy to destroy. It's part of my psychological makeup. Trying to eliminate it completely only fuels more anxiety. The goal is not eradication, but coexistence—learning to live with these thoughts without letting them control me.
- Living in the Present: When intrusive thoughts arise, the best response is to stay grounded in the present moment and focus on what needs to be done. Action breaks the cycle of rumination. If I can keep functioning—studying, socializing, working—then the thoughts lose their power.
- Managing Emotional Waves: Anxiety, tension, and sadness are natural. Instead of resisting them, I practice gentle redirection—deep breathing, short walks, or shifting focus to a task. Emotions pass when we stop feeding them with attention.
These aren't just therapy techniques—they've become guiding philosophies in how I approach life. With ongoing support from my family and therapist, I transformed. By junior high graduation, my grades had rebounded to previous levels. I even qualified for early admission into the city's top high school—an achievement that brought me to tears the night results were announced. It was more than academic success; it was proof that healing was possible.
Phase Three: Stability, Growth, and Independence
The final phase—from high school to today—has been about consolidation: stability, maturity, and inner strength. Before starting high school, I worried intensely about living away from home. Could I manage my symptoms without my family nearby? Would the pressure trigger a relapse?
My brother reassured me: "You'll adapt." And I did. Commuting an hour each way and returning home only weekly was challenging, but thanks to years of therapy, I'd already developed strong self-management skills. The fear of the unknown remained, but my ability to cope grew stronger with each passing month.
Thriving Despite Setbacks
In high school, I participated fully—academically, socially, and physically. Yes, there were setbacks. Intrusive thoughts sometimes returned with intensity. But each time, I handled them better. I no longer feared them. I welcomed them as familiar companions, acknowledged their presence, and continued with my day.
My academic performance remained stable, even excelling at times. College entrance exam results weren't perfect, but they were solid—good enough to earn admission into a prestigious Project 985 university, a milestone I once thought impossible.
Therapy continued, but my dependence decreased. Sessions shifted from crisis management to personal growth—sharing progress, reinforcing resilience, and building long-term confidence. I no longer needed weekly check-ins. Even during my first semester at university—four months with only one therapy session—I maintained balance in studies, relationships, and self-care.
OCD no longer disrupts my life. It's present, yes—but manageable. I face it calmly, equipped with tools and self-awareness. The fear is gone. The struggle has transformed into strength.
Reflections on a Hard-Won Victory
Six years may seem long, but this journey has given me something invaluable: perspective, resilience, and self-mastery. It was painful, exhausting, and lonely at times. But it also taught me compassion, patience, and the power of perseverance.
I'm deeply thankful—to my parents for their endless patience, to my brother for never walking away, and to my therapist for guiding me with wisdom and consistency. Most of all, I'm proud of myself for not giving up, even when surrender felt easier.
Today, I stand confident—not because OCD is gone, but because I know I can handle whatever comes my way. The future is uncertain, but I am ready. Recovery isn't about perfection. It's about progress. And mine continues, one mindful step at a time.