The beginning...

So, a little bit about myself. My name is Jessica. But my fiance lovingly calls me The Peacock. She says that is because of my swagger. I am 27 years old. And I have OCD. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is no joke. Now, you are probably thinking of a True Life episode on MTV or maybe even an episode of Obsessed on A&E. But, my OCD isn't glamorous and has sadly, not jump started a television career. Though it would be nice. Lets see... I suppose I have always had OCD in some way though I would never admit it. I lead a normal life, with a normal job. I am pretty good at hiding it altogether from most people. I get comments at work like "oh you must have OCD because you're so organized." But in reality those people don't know the actual truth. OCD isn't about being organized or liking to have things clean. It is about needing to have things organized and clean. Wondering if your teeth are falling out and trying to shake them to see if they are loose even though you have only had one cavity in your entire life. Making sure that you go to the bathroom right before you leave the house because of the fear of having to go into a public restroom. It is about picking at a scar until it bleeds and gets infected and you have had it for 2 months because you simply can't leave it alone. Well, that is what my OCD experience has been thus far at least. Oh, so glamorous... right? And somehow writing it down here I even think to myself that it is a little much. A little too dramatic... a little too ridiculous. But alas, it is always with me. My OCD is like that toxic friend that we have all had at one time or another. You feel comfort and complete fear at the same time. People say to me "why not just take medicine." An all to easy solution. But I have lived with all of this for so long that the thought of just medicating it away feels scary. So this is my starting point. This is where I start to realize my OCD. Where I start to understand my OCD. And where ultimately I hope to rid myself of my OCD.