There’s Always One
So far, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the reactions of my family, friends, and coworkers as I invited them to read my blog, like my Facebook page, and read the stories I’d hidden from many of them throughout my life.
I had expected a lot more hatred to come my way - and it was shocking to me that it took so long for someone to say hurtful things about the advocacy work I’m so proud to be doing out in the open now.
I thought, once upon a time, that I was close with Dara (name changed for privacy). We spent so much time together in college, even if we fell mostly out of contact when we moved apart from each other. Still, though, I was excited to share my blog and Facebook page with her, and let her know that I’m working on publishing a book about this - something I’ve been eager to do my whole life.
Her response was galling.
She started out with the classic “everyone has OCD, you’re not special,” and then launched into the good old stereotypes of organizing and alphabetizing. Apparently, everyone who likes to keep a relatively clean home or organized desk at work has OCD…
When I told her that I was diagnosed at a young age, before anyone would start organizing - even if that wasn’t an offensive and incorrect stereotype - she told me, “Three years old isn’t old enough to know what’s going on in your head.” (I’m offended at this one not just for my sake, but for people like my best friend from college, Alex, who knew he was transgender at an early age.)
At the same time, though, she told me she “always knew you had issues” and “you had better be on the right meds.” She said this in a patronizing tone, as if I was still three years old and needed someone to tell me how to live my life.
She went on to tell me that she thought I was just autistic, since apparently autism and OCD are the same thing now (to clarify, there can be symptom overlaps, but they are absolutely not the same thing).
And then, perhaps the most galling thing of all: “Why would you keep it a secret?”
Why did I keep it a secret?
Because of people like her.
Because there are people who say they would have been supportive, but show their true colors immediately. Who would lend credibility to my negative thoughts of being a bother, a nuisance, and a problem. Who would teach me that it’s not safe to tell people who I am and drive me further into pretending to be someone else.
Until now, I have kept my mental illness a secret because I didn’t know who was safe. I didn’t know who I could trust and who would still want to associate with me after they knew. I didn’t want to give them the chance to hurt me, so - like an overprotective turtle - I stayed huddled in my shell.
And then, I poked my head out a little bit to do a podcast for No Shame On U. I gave a speech at work and realized that most people are not like Dara. For every Dara out there, there are plenty of people who have offered me unexpected support, kindness, and love.
Although I can’t say I’m grateful for my first hate comments, they’ve shown me so much about how most people around me are on my side. This support has encouraged me to keep going with this project even if more people say hurtful things, and instead of letting Dara’s words get me down, I’m going to keep writing and fighting until words like hers are a thing of the past.
Michelle Cohen, a writer in the Chicago area, was diagnosed with OCD at age 3. She hopes to educate others about her condition and end the stigma against mental illness.