I’ve known for a while that I have OCD. It’s a very common comorbidity with autism, and they feed off each other in the worst way by tapping into that obsessive, hyperfocused piece of autism and strapping an anxiety rocket to the back of it. Once it starts, it’s very hard to stop.

To me, anxiety feels like I’m overwhelmed; the world is too much. OCD feels like my brain is hurtling through my thoughts at 100 mph in a hyperfocused yet constantly shifting feedback loop. It makes it nearly impossible to focus on one thing for long, so I just hop from thing to thing until my brain exhausts itself, gets anxious again, and the process repeats because checking/obsessing gives it a dopamine pay-off to cancel out the anxiety. The worst part is that when it’s bad, I’m not always cognizant that’s what this is, especially if there is an active source of stress. The incident that has kicked off this post was caused by someone and a perceived (real or imagined) threat, so it wasn’t illogical to believe I needed to do something to stay safe. The problem was anxiety about feeling unsafe because it seemed like someone I had blocked was creeping on my social media quickly snowballed into an obsessive downward spiral (whether that was true or not doesn’t change the anxiety over it).

I don’t like who I become when I’m obsessed like this. You know in movies/TV shows where the detective is tracking someone through storms and ridiculous situations no matter what danger appears, that is how being OCD driven feels. My brain would happily sacrifice actual safety to get what it wants, and that is terrifying in hindsight. It makes me an unsafe person when I’m in that hypervigilant state. The minutiae I would typically be anxiety-ridden over go out the window if I can feed the thought engine to go faster. Somehow my brain thinks hurtling toward danger is how I can make myself safe, as if I can think myself into safety because the solution has to be there somewhere. I just need to think fast and hard enough to do it.

Part of the problem is that I have trained myself to do this by accident. When I was in high school and college, I could ascend to a higher test-taking plane by working myself into that frenzied hyperfocused state. If you’ve ever seen Michael Phelps getting pumped before a meet, that’s basically what it looks like but internal. I could fly through a final exam in less than fifteen minutes and walk out with an A because I worked my brain into a state it was never meant to be in. After finals week, I would collapse into a pool of exhaustion and mild anxiety until my synapses cooled. The same thing happens now with OCD.

I feel the rug pulled out from under me when the source of stress is removed or I snap out of it for whatever reason. OCD brain v. normal brain is a shocking contrast, but when it’s been slowly building for weeks, you don’t notice you’re in trouble until you’re in the thick of it, which is the scariest part for me. My OCD doesn’t manifest as external rituals, it’s just internal cycling, obsessive chaos, which makes it harder to pinpoint and harder for others to notice and intervene. Plus, despite all the rest, I try to hide it if I think my partner is getting concerned about me. I shouldn’t, but unfortunately, it’s hard to admit to ourselves and others that we need help. I’m open about having anxiety and being autistic, but OCD is always seen so stereotypically that it’s hard to discuss it when it presents as a whirlpool of brain chaos and refreshing internet tabs.

Truthfully, I thought I could will it away. If I tried hard enough, I could magically beat back the OCD or pull myself out without external help, but it’s obvious I can’t. The problem with treating OCD and autism together is multifaceted. The most obvious issue is the cost and availability of mental health services. A lot of places have wait lists for evaluations, and no matter where you go, it’s going to cost you unless you have good insurance (even then, it isn’t cheap). The other major problem is that a lot of psychiatrists are not equipped to work with neurodivergent/autistic patients, so they end up either being ableist and patronizing or totally useless because your brain doesn’t work the same way as a neurotypical person’s brain. When you have a combo plan brain and one without external ritualized behaviors, OCD gets a little tricky to treat.

My hope is that in the near future I can get anti-anxiety/OCD medication that will hopefully help to tamp down these feelings or make it easier to disengage. It will probably be a bit as I research psychiatrists and figure out what my insurance will and won’t cover. In the meantime, I’m going to try to limit my time on social media and active Discords because, now that I’m less chaotic, I know those are part of the under-over stimulated feedback loop that sucks me into a checking OCD spiral.

I got off balance this year back in July when I had the jury duty panel week, and it wasn’t my smartest move to throw an intensive summer class on top of it, knowing I was working on my book and that other things could come up, which they did. I need to figure out the balance between making enough to live and not putting my brain into stressed out, OCD hell. In the meantime, I’m going to work on finding some coping strategies and supplements that might muffle the anxiety until I can make an appointment with someone.