OCD

By Emma Atkinson

There are bad days, 

when I cry into my dad’s arms

and he comforts me in the midst of my routine. 

because my OCD has come to control me 

again, telling me that I will die,           

or get sick if I don’t listen. 

It’s scary to feel that way, 

To not feel safe with yourself and others 

because of a mental disorder 

I’m sick of it controlling me, 

controlling every minute of every day with thoughts that 

haunt me. 

I wash my hands after everything I do 

People ask me 

Are you a surgeon?

I am not, 

I have a disorder: 

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. 

People say, 

Oh, you are so OCD 

No–you are not. 

It’s called just being clean 

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is different 

Different in so many ways. 

You wash your hands until they’re raw 

Over and over, 

You wash your skin until it’s raw 

Over and over, 

You check the door if it’s locked 

Over and over, 

You check if the stove is off 

Over and over, 

You change clothes 

Over and over, 

You check texts and emails 

And you can’t say certain words, 

Or count to a certain number. 

Your OCD tells you– 

You are going to die, 

Somebody else is going to die. 

That is what Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is 

And it’s frightening.