Reassurance

HARM OCD VENT. I feel Terrified. I am so scared that I am going to act on a terrible harm ocd intrusive thought on someone else. The idea, the sensations the urges terrify me because it feels so scarily real. I feel like im a horrible person - a danger and i’m so guilty for having intrusive thoughts. I hate knives, I avoid looking at them in real life, in the kitchen as i’m so terrified that i will do sone thing terrible. I get excited when my boyfriend cones round as i always think he knows about my thoughts so at least he would restrain me if i were to do anything bad. I just feel so scared so guilty. I have this horrible sensation of urge running through my body- currently im on the verge of tears- i feel lost. My ocd has even latched onto pumpkin carving - scared i will do something bad. Now my OCD is just being like “ maybe your avoiding is all fake and your trying to cover your a bad person” “ what if u actually want to “. “ I want to “ “ You arnt actually trying to hard from harmful objects “ its TERRIFYING. please may someone reply - I’m terrified right now its like an intrusive FEELING is in my body. Sorry guys. I NEED reassurance at this point, I don’t know what to do.

The other day I made a post about being kind and supportive and not being judgmental when commenting on other people’s posts because someone made a comment on my post insinuating that I don’t have ocd and i’m actually just a bad person. At first it didn’t really bother me because I know i’m not a bad person but now my ocd is latching onto their comment and it’s making me feel horrible. My post that they commented on was about how whenever I think things to myself like how my pre teen daughter is blessed to have slim legs and not chubby thighs like mine and she’s growing up into a nice shape or my teen son has a nice shape jawline and neck and it’s good that he’s slim but he’s too slim or how all of my adult kids are so handsome/beautiful my ocd turns my random normal mom thoughts into something inappropriate. I know I don’t think of or look at my kids or any kids or young person in an inappropriate way. My ocd says I do and I was seeking support. That persons comment was so damaging for me. I tried to think maybe they have never had dark disturbing intrusive thoughts with their ocd themes and maybe they just don’t understand or maybe they have never had pocd theme or maybe they are not a parent but even if all of that were true, their comment was still so judgmental and damaging. I am struggling even more now because my ocd is latching onto that persons comment and making me feel like a horrible person. Has anyone else had this happen? How did you get through it?

I have a lot of thoughts about the universe, and they’re overwhelming—like being caught in a rip current, except it’s all inside my head. Most of the time, they’re about how small we are, how there really isn’t a “we” because our bodies aren’t truly ours—we’re just bacteria, cells, and microbes. The thoughts spiral, deeper and deeper, smaller and smaller, coiling until suddenly, I’m pulled under, drowning in a whirlpool. I’ve never felt like this before, and I’m convinced I’ve been faking it somehow. For the past few weeks, my OCD has been worse than it’s ever been in my 20 years of life. Or maybe I’m just more aware of it now. Has anyone else had their OCD suddenly get really bad? Does it ever end—if it even can? I’ve convinced myself that my intrusive thoughts aren’t actually intrusive, that my OCD is a choice, and that everything I do is intentional. As for compulsions, I don’t have the typical “If I don’t do ____ then ____ will happen” kind of thoughts. Instead, my brain simply commands, “Do ____,” and I always give in. It’s so loud in my head, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m an imposter. Like I don’t belong here—like my presence on this app is an intrusion, invalidating everyone else’s struggles just by downloading it and daring to post. If anyone feels that way, if you think I’m intruding, I’m sorry. I only came here because I have no one to share my diagnosis with. Pouring my thoughts out, hoping someone might understand, feels less suffocating than journaling. Journaling is like letting a wound fester—each word burying the thoughts deeper, leaving them to decay in silence, for nobody to ever read but myself.