Although cognitive-behavioral therapy threw off my OCD chains four years ago, I have to be honest: sometimes I worry that all the protective walls I’ve built around me will come crashing down.
I know that OCD is waiting just outside. I see it in the parking lot sometimes. Every once in a while it sneaks into my bedroom at night and sits menacingly on my dresser, whispering ugliness.
I have the tools to make it leave now. It has to obey me when I tell it to go.
But what if one night I’m not strong enough? What if my voice wavers, and it realizes I’m not as powerful as I try to sound? What will I do if it pitches a tent in my apartment, moves back in with its suitcases of grief and terror?
I speak boldly of CBT and ERP as if they are stories of the past. I say “freedom” like it’s a permanent thing. But I can’t see even one second into the future.
Just wanted to share these thoughts with my OCD community. I have great joy, and I delight in my remission, but I’m a real person with real fears. As I’ve said before, I won’t tiptoe around my OCD– but I’m not going to provoke it either.
JACKIE LEA SOMMERS 
Jackie… thank you for being real.
My pleasure, Ames. I just wanted everyone to know that I wasn’t a rock. If I fall, I still bleed.
Great post, Jackie. It helps give me (someone without OCD) a feeling of what it’s like to be “recovered.” I imagine my son feels the same way as you.
I can understand your fears, Jackie. I still have OCD symptoms, but it’s so much better than it used to be. It’s better right now than it was even a couple of months ago. But the fear sometimes still rears its head and makes me think, what if it comes back full force? What will I do?
Thank you for your honesty.
This is needed. “Suitcases of grief and terror . . .” what a poignant and heartbreaking snapshot of what OCD is.