I know that I’ve done it. In response to friendly jibes about my occasionally rigid tendencies, I’ve casually blamed them on “my OCD.” At the time it seemed harmless. After all, I was just using the same cliché so much of society does. What made me stop? I began treating patients who have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. In clinical practice, I learned how those who suffer from it struggle to maintain relationships, careers, and sometimes their lives. Quickly, I realized that my curious quirks are light-years away from the actual symptoms of this disorder.
People who battle OCD typically perform rituals to prevent consequences from happening. Although actual experience can drive them to expect a replay of some damaging consequence, their assumptions can be equally disturbing. To ward off impulses and sensations flooding their minds and bodies, these individuals clean, check for safety, and preserve order. Unfortunately, the fears which underlie the behaviors continue to grow, since they’ve never been addressed. In response, these individuals work ever harder to complete the self-assigned tasks. This demands time and encroaches on responsibilities. Perhaps worst of all, this syndrome destroys quality of life and erodes hope that the cycle can be broken.
According to statistics published in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 5th Edition, Text Revision, there’s significant risk for suicide among individuals who’ve been diagnosed with OCD. The Manual reports that lifetime rates of suicidal ideation in this population exceed 44%, while lifetime attempts to commit suicide are 14.2% (DSM-5-TR, 2022, pp. 269).For me, these are stark reminders that words really do matter. That in a case like this, I’m not just substituting “Coke” for cola or “Google it” for a random browser search. I may, in fact, be impacting someone’s emotional security by the language I choose. Good to know-especially if I want to be treated in kind.
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