My New Normal

I spend most of my days creating pieces of art, taking part in therapy, spending time in hospital or getting involved in mental health advocacy. This is what I like to call ‘my new normal’. I have OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I say that now with such ease. That wasn’t always the case. So often the reaction I get from others when I say I have OCD is often “I have a bit of that” or “so you clean a lot.” This is a hurdle I face daily.  

There is so much misunderstanding around OCD that when I found myself ten years ago sitting on my hospital bed in St. Patrick’s University Hospital, even I thought “Why can’t I just move on and get over this?”

You see OCD isn’t about neatness or cleanliness. For me it’s like having a whole committee meeting inside my head. Policing everything I think, say or do. I have safe words, numbers and actions. I am always alert, watching and listening to everything going on around me. There are rituals and superstitions I must follow or something bad will happen to myself or others. I see disturbing OCD images and have upsetting OCD sensations. These are not hallucinations, and I know they are not real. Yet they are very vivid to me. The sensations can go from feeling unbalanced to my skin crawling so bad that it leads me to scratch and claw at myself.  

I am my own sentry to every moment of my life. Yes I have contamination fears which make it difficult for me to touch things. However, you only see the cleaning, not the explosion of thoughts and fears that come with it.

My OCD is the metaphorical duck on the pond. Calm and controlled to the viewer, with the hidden frantic paddling underneath.  

Up until my first hospital stay no one knew about my mental illness. I was successful in my career and covering up my OCD.  

Then I broke. I needed help so thankfully I reached out and admitted myself to hospital. I was so embarrassed about going into hospital that I told no one. Not even my family knew.  

That was the second big hurdle I had to face. My shame around being unable to cope and having a mental illness. I let people think I was still working and I kept my shameful weakness to myself.  

St. Patrick’s Hospital became my turning point. Staff and patients spoke openly to one another about their difficulties. No pressure, no judgement, just empathy and support.  

I took part in OCD programmes, psychology sessions, art therapy and so many activities that were available to me. I gained strength and confidence to be honest about being a person with OCD and a person who needed help with it.  

Starting with my family, I would say if I was going into hospital. At the beginning the reaction was not always as supportive as it could have been. But I persevered. Made talking about mental health my new normal.  

This new normal grew and blossomed to where I am now. My art therapy developed to where I regularly exhibit my work. It also led to my connection with the mental health awareness campaign Elephant in the Room.  

To date I have painted four life-sized baby elephant sculptures that have been adopted by businesses, hospitals and colleges. At the launch of these elephants and exhibitions I speak openly about the difficulties I have each day. I encourage others to speak up, check in and talk to one another about our mental health.  

Yes, my new normal involves hospital admissions and various treatments. That’s ok, it’s what I need. My OCD difficulties haven’t magically disappeared. Some days are definitely harder than others. I have however found new purposes in my life. I want to help educate others around OCD and its deep and lasting effects. At the same time, I would like to help lessen the stigma connected to mental illness. In the words of Marie Curie: “Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.” Understanding is key and is the reason I share my story with you here today.

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