Ashley's Story

What a difference a few days make!

One Wednesday in November 2003, I was cursing my OCD because I felt I was back to square one. As an OCD veteran of twelve years I should have known better. But after a few weeks of feeling pretty good about my OCD I had been forced to use the loo whilst out that day and as a result I had come home and thrown away all my clothes, which in my OCD mind were now fully contaminated.

In my OCD world I had a fear of contamination revolving around toilets and 'number twos'. I was never able to use a toilet at home or out without being naked. Straight after washing my hands I had to throw myself into a pre-run bath or shower, where I would proceed to rub myself from head to toe with soap, usually for over an hour - more than once for four or five hours at a time. I remember once coming home from work at 6.00pm, going in the bathroom and doing my various cleaning rituals. I topped up the hot water now and then and when I’d finished I looked at the clock and it said 11.00pm!

A few days after going back to OCD square one, the following Saturday I went to the other end of the OCD scale and faced my OCD for the first time. It was late Saturday night and I was getting the tummy pains which would always fill me with dread. It meant I would soon be needing the loo. After going to the loo, I sat there - and I am still not quite sure why but I suddenly decided to face the OCD. I finished my business and I simply got up, washed my hands and returned to my bedroom without having a bath or shower.

No idea why I did this. Maybe it was because it was almost 1.00am and I knew running a bath would wake my flatmate up. Maybe I was tired and did not have enough energy to go through the rituals? Maybe I was feeling brave after spending the afternoon at Millwall watching my team (Nottingham Forest) play? Who knows why? Maybe a combination of all three. Maybe nothing to do with any of that. But the most important thing was that I had finally had the courage to face the OCD.

I went a step further than that, following advice I had previously heard I went around touching everything that was 'clean'. By contaminating everything that was ‘safe’ and ‘clean’ there would no longer be a line between 'clean' and 'contaminated'.

The most amazing part of it all was that a simple thing like using the toilet had me smiling broadly and laughing out loud! I even called a friend from the Bulletin Board at 2.00am to share my success. I logged on and made a thread bragging that I had been able to use the loo. It may seem like a sad and pathetic thing to do to an outsider but to me it was the best and bravest thing I had ever done.

I awoke the next morning and felt so alive - not at all anxious, I felt so fresh because I knew instantly that the previous night that I had more or less crushed the OCD within me by facing it head on.

Over the coming days I kept pushing myself and flushed the loo with my hand rather than my foot with my shoe on, something I had been doing for the previous twelve years or so.

What is normal?

One thing that I found difficult almost immediately over the following days was that I no longer knew what was 'normal' when it came to washing my hands and bathing.

After touching or using the loo I was now washing my hands with soap and although I knew at sixty seconds I was still taking too long, I was actually not sure what was deemed 'normal'. I was also no longer washing myself all over with soap for hours at a time after using the loo - but when I did go for a bath or a shower I was not actually sure what was normal in the terms of washing myself.

What I did work out though was that compared to the length of time I was in the bath to my new average of twenty to thirty minutes I would be saving myself ten days a year in bath time. Not to mention the expense of soap and shampoo, a saving of £150 a year!

I kept up the good work over the next few days, just little things like having a bath first then using the loo helped, rather than the other way around. Also after having a bath contaminating myself quickly whilst I felt nice and clean by touching the toilet handle.

My toughest test came within a few days when I needed to use the loo at work. This was the first time in twelve years I had voluntarily used a loo away from home (without being naked). Previously if caught short at work I would either make an excuse that I was sick and rush home, or go to the loo but then throw everything away when I got home that night - my shoes, socks, suits, ties, everything. It would all feel contaminated so in the rubbish it would go. Of course, this was all in a strict routine, get undressed in a contaminated area like the bathroom, drop everything into a bin liner, throw it outside the door for the rubbish and then naked I would tip toe back to the bathroom without touching anything and into the bath. Anyway, despite a bit of anxiety I went to the loo at work and returned back to my desk with a massive grin across my face which brought much comment from my colleagues. When asked why I was smiling I simply answered 'because I've just been to the loo' which provided a few bemused faces from everyone as I sat there chuckling to myself. I had a little anxiety, but within half an hour it was gone and I felt great.

The first negativity, however, came the following week when I had finished using the loo at work. I was at the sink washing my hands. I had got them quite lathered in soap and was washing it off, maybe taking some time (thirty to sixty seconds) which brought comments from two colleagues in there at the same time. Although for me what I had just done was still a major achievement compared to a couple of weeks previous, I suddenly realised I was still not totally over my OCD.

Six months on and I am still well with my fight against OCD. I’m still able to use the loo without bathing. There have been minor relapses but like the saying goes, 'If you fall off the horse you have to jump right back on'. OCD is very much like that – always two steps forward and one step back.

What kept me going forward was the fact that I had done it once and I just kept reminding myself that  I could do it again!

The good news is that I have been able to use public loos on more than one occasion in restaurants, seaside resorts and most importantly at the place where it all began - my parents'. Although admittedly they had a brand new bathroom suite put in since I had last been there.

Where did it all begin?

Although I am not totally sure when and where it all began, I think my OCD first took hold when I was about eighteen (I am now thirty one).

After leaving school at sixteen I went straight to work in the motor industry working for a Rover car franchise. Although not in the workshop, I was based in the Parts' Department. This was a horrible, dusty, dirty, greasy environment and each night I would go home and bathe to get, or rather, to ‘feel’ clean. I think somehow that may have passed itself onto also feeling anything to do with using the loo to be dirty and unclean.

Another theory came from a therapist that I once saw. Until the age of eighteen I had a speech defect which meant certain letters would not sound correctly when I tried to pronounce them. This was something I’d found highly embarrassing as a child and young adult. I would go out my way to avoid using words that started with those letters. When I was eighteen I took myself off to a Speech Therapist who taught me to use my tongue rather than nose to pronounce the words that had previously given me difficulties and within an hour of therapy I was cured. My OCD therapist suggested that I had replaced that embarrassing problem with another, i.e. the OCD.

I never really worried about the origins of my OCD. All I knew was that from the age of eighteen to the age of thirty it blighted my life. In many ways stopped me enjoying the 'fun' years of my twenties. Although I never thought my OCD was a problem, looking back it did rule my life. For years I would avoid having to use the toilet and of course it also blighted my social life - in the respect that after work I would always rush home to use the toilet and have my daily bath. Oh well, at least nobody could ever accuse me of being unclean!

My daily routine back then would involve waking up and going to work - avoiding eating too much in case it meant I needed the loo then going home, having some food, using the loo and having my bath.

If I wanted to go out I would take anti diarrhoea tablets to try and stop myself needing the loo.

Over the years I also had other forms of OCD, checking in particular was an issue. Sometimes I would spend twenty minutes just checking a tap or switch was off, although in time that OCD variety seemed to fade away. I also went through a stage of washing my hands with washing up liquid at the sink for no reason. I would go through two or three bottles a day sometimes. These days one bottle, purely for washing up, lasts four to six weeks!

Learning all about OCD

I first discovered I had something with a label called 'OCD' in my mid-twenties when I saw an episode of Casualty where OCD was featured. At that time I never actually did anything about it, I felt OCD was more a chore than something that upset or worried me. Unlike nearly all other sufferers I never got upset, depressed or cried about my OCD apart from one occasion when I first saw a therapist about it when I was about thirty. I came home, got in my bath and cried for about five minutes. After that I was ok again. It is often suggested that immediately after your first therapy sessions the OCD will be worse and upsetting for a few hours.

It was only after I left Nottingham to spend a few years living and working in London that I actually decided to look more into OCD.

I was working one Sunday afternoon and with no calls coming in I decided to use one of the company's computers to browse the internet to find help for something called 'OCD'. Sadly I was shocked to find nearly all web resources were US based and did not really offer any help to anyone in the UK, so I decided I would go to a GP for help.

I walked into my GP's surgery in Shadwell, East London and I sat down with my GP and told him that I had OCD and needed help to get better. His reply ..... 'What's OCD?'

I walked out of the surgery shaking my head and realised that my recovery from OCD would not be quick and wouldn’t. happen within a few weeks. Deep down I had actually thought that I could go and see my GP, get a referral to an OCD therapist and much like my speech problem it would be cured in a short space of time.

Made of strong stuff I did not give up. After waiting two weeks for my GP to get back to me with a NHS referral I went back to him. He had clearly not followed up the original appointment. He had managed however, to get me a referral to a NHS psychologist in Tottenham, North London who would see me privately for £80.

I took myself off to the psychologist. It was a cold winters evening. For anyone that knows Tottenham – they will confirm, it’s not the nicest of areas. Couple that with the atmosphere at the bleak NHS hospital the whole experience was quite off putting to say the least. In any event, the psychologist only wanted to talk about my childhood and would not say how future treatment would pan out so I never returned.

Still not deterred I found a link to the private Priory hospital in Southgate, North London. Through my then employers (Bloomberg) I was able to get a referral there funded by the health insurance package that came with my job. So I took myself off to see Dr David Veale.

The walk down the lane to the Priory was lovely, green fields, trees, almost a country mansion feel to it. In fact I think the place had previously been an hotel.

The initial assessment with Dr Veale went well, he confirmed that I had OCD (Tell me something I did not already know!) but I walked away with a little hope. I was referred to a psychologist at the Priory named Dheerish Turnbull.

In total I went to about six sessions with Dheerish. Each session lasted about forty five minutes and I did learn a lot about OCD and how it affected me in the first three or four sessions. But after that there was no progress and I was not learning anything so I decided to knock it on the head. They then asked me to attend a group session as opposed to one on one.

The following week I turned up to the group session thinking I would meet others who were similar to me. Out of the other six people in the room not one had OCD which was similar to mine and I could not relate to them at all. I was a little annoyed that the Priory had put me into a group where nobody had contamination OCD so I never returned.

Through Dr. Veale, I was introduced to the then, only UK based OCD Charity, OCD Action. Dr Veale asked me if I would help the charity out and build a website to promote their 2002 Conference. After building the Conference website I went onto to build the main OCD Action website, the one that you see there now.

It was several months after seeing Dr Veale and the Priory that I had my OCD breakthrough. When asked if I felt that treatment was what helped me overcome my OCD I actually felt it only played a bit part in my staying OCD free and not really at all in the actual facing of the OCD.

The credit for that breakthrough is always going to be down to the individual. I felt various pieces of advice helped me stay OCD free. Advice I picked up from the three therapists I saw and advice I got from other sufferers on the Bulletin Board also helped but after my recovery I re-read Brain Lock and I put the staying free from OCD completely down to that.

All that brings us up to the question - Why did I start OCD-UK?

To keep it simple, I felt that not enough was being done within the UK and for various reasons a new charity was needed with a fresh, dynamic approach.

 

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