My parents started to worry, and eventually it was my father, an accountant, who took me to a child psychologist. I was relieved, in a way. I felt there was something wrong with me that needed to be fixed, though it was also upsetting to be doing something, for the first time, without my twin.
But the doctor simply told us that I was a “normal”, clever child – and there was nothing wrong with me. Hence, when my behaviour continued, my parents simply thought I was being difficult – and I don’t blame them for this. But deep down, I was angry and frustrated.
My OCD symptoms subsided for a few years. But in my late teens, they came back with a vengeance. Many people might think that OCD is just about tidiness or cleanliness. And while the compulsion to wash your hands hundreds of times a day certainly exists for some, and can be deeply distressing, it was the repetitive, intrusive thoughts that were so awful for me.
I remember one morning in 2013, getting on a crowded bus to school. I became convinced that if I touched anyone on this bus – with my backpack, my shoes, or my jacket – something terrible would happen to them.
As the bus was packed, this was impossible to avoid. My brain told me the other passengers would be hit with a car, killed – even raped: the most terrible, gruesome images, in lurid detail. Even though my rational self told me these weren’t real, the thoughts were obsessions that wouldn’t go away.
I’d sit at my school desk, frozen in terror, unable to concentrate on what the teacher was saying – it was as if my brain had been taken hostage by the thoughts.
From that day, the OCD was constantly shouting in my head, every day, every minute, like the worst enemy. So intrusive were these thoughts, often of sexual violence happening to me or other people – that it was taking me an hour to finish reading a page of my book.
This was really upsetting for someone who adored studying. But somehow, I struggled to pretend to the outside world everything was ‘fine’, which in itself was exhausting.
I had very few friends in high school – even during normal conversations, I had these terrible images going through my head. I remember one girl calling me “weird”. I used to confide in Sofia, who was always very protective of me. Throughout our childhood, she tried to protect me from anything that could hurt me including “toxic” people.
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