On the outside, Amara’s life looked like anyone else’s. She held down a full-time job, kept up with her friends, and pursued her hobbies. To most people, she seemed organised, maybe even a bit particular, but otherwise, nothing appeared unusual about her daily routine. What they didn’t see, however, was the hidden battle she fought every single day—a battle with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) that dictated much of her life.
Before Amara could leave the house each morning, she went through a series of rituals, ones she felt powerless to avoid. Every item in her home had to be arranged in a precise order—pillows perfectly aligned, doors locked and relocked multiple times, the stove checked repeatedly to ensure it was off. If anything felt even slightly off, a surge of anxiety would wash over her, forcing her to start the ritual all over again. What should have been a quick exit often took hours, leaving her exhausted and frustrated before her day had even begun.
Amara knew these behaviours weren’t rational. She knew, deep down, that the stove wasn’t on after the tenth check, and that the door was locked after the fifth twist of the handle. But knowing didn’t help. Her OCD wasn’t about logic; it was about fear—fear that something terrible would happen if she didn’t complete her rituals perfectly. Each time she tried to resist, the anxiety became unbearable, as if something awful was just waiting around the corner if she didn’t comply.
The exhaustion extended beyond her morning routine. Amara’s OCD affected every aspect of her life. At work, she found herself second-guessing emails and re-reading them countless times before sending them, terrified she’d made a mistake. Social events became overwhelming too—she often cancelled plans with friends, not because she didn’t want to see them, but because her rituals took so much time and energy that she simply couldn’t face leaving the house.
Despite how much OCD dominated her life, Amara felt she had to keep it hidden. She feared that if people knew about her rituals, they would think she was "crazy" or incapable of handling her responsibilities. Her friends saw her as diligent and meticulous, traits they admired. But what they didn’t realise was that her perfectionism wasn’t a choice—it was a compulsion. She lived in constant fear of being exposed, of someone witnessing the lengths she went to in order to keep her anxiety at bay.
The isolation was the hardest part. Amara often felt as though she was living two separate lives: the one the world saw and the one she struggled with behind closed doors. The fear of judgment kept her silent, and with every unspoken word, her loneliness grew. She wanted to ask for help, but she wasn’t sure how to explain what she was going through in a way that people would understand. How could she describe the need to touch the doorknob six times or the fear that if she didn’t, something terrible would happen?
Eventually, the weight of it all became too much. Amara knew that if she didn’t seek help, her OCD would continue to consume her life. After years of struggling in silence, she reached out to a therapist who specialised in OCD. It wasn’t easy. The first few sessions were filled with tears and frustration as she grappled with the idea of confronting her compulsions rather than giving in to them. But little by little, with the help of therapy, she began to understand her OCD for what it was—an anxiety disorder, not a reflection of who she was as a person.
Through exposure and response prevention therapy (ERP), Amara learned how to face her fears without resorting to rituals. It was a slow process, and there were days when the anxiety felt too overwhelming to bear. But over time, she started to reclaim parts of her life that had been overtaken by OCD. She learned that it was okay to leave the house without double-checking every detail and that her worth wasn’t tied to the rituals she performed.
Amara’s story is a powerful reminder of how invisible mental health struggles can be. To the outside world, she appeared to be thriving, but inside, she was fighting a battle few people understood. Her experience highlights the need for greater awareness of OCD, not just as a quirky behaviour, but as a debilitating condition that can affect every aspect of a person’s life. By sharing her story, Amara hopes to remind others with OCD that they’re not alone, and that seeking help is the first step toward reclaiming their lives from the grip of anxiety.
Thank you so much for this article. Suffering from OCD is not just about being a neat freak or being clean; it's much more complex than that. It is incredibly time-consuming and can drive a person to the brink of insanity.
I've lost count of the number of times I've lain in bed, unable to sleep, due to overwhelming fear. I'd get up to double-check that all the taps in my house are turned off, repeatedly verify my gas stove, check my doors, windows, and even ensure my TV is off (despite having done so before lying down). I feel compelled to follow a specific routine and order. I have to recheck and double check every single thing and even after checking and rechecking, my mind is still not at rest.
I can’t even explain the fear and anxiety that comes with OCD. The accompanying fear and anxiety are indescribable. Living with OCD is a constant struggle.