When You Can’t Eat Your Words
In my recent appearance on No Shame On U’s podcast, I advised friends and family members of people with OCD to not point out their loved one’s compulsions to avoid embarrassment and shame. But what happens if you point out a compulsion by accident?
My mom encountered this situation this week when, at a shift at work, she was in charge of overseeing a coffee machine for hospital patients’ families. Someone she didn’t know came in and started to refill the coffee machine’s water tank, even though it was almost filled to the top. He continued to do so until Mom - who was used to people not knowing how the coffee machine worked - told him that the tank didn’t need to be full to work properly.
Mom told me that the man’s demeanor changed, and it was as if he deflated. He explained to her that he has OCD, and one of his compulsions is that he always needs to ensure that the tank of water by any coffee machine he’s using is full. Even after he brews his cup, he returns to fill the coffee maker entirely.
Mom told me that he was deeply embarrassed to have a compulsion pointed out - but in her defense, she had no idea his behavior was anything other than a run-of-the-mill encounter with someone who didn’t know how to use the coffee machine.
In response, Mom told him that it was completely fine with her, then noted that he had in fact made her job easier because she didn’t have to refill the tank herself. He stayed and continued to make his coffee, but even when he returned to the room again later, Mom said he still seemed embarrassed.
Mom told me that her response was an attempt at a joke or some other way to put him at ease, but she wasn’t sure whether she had done the right thing. She said she wouldn’t have pointed out a compulsion if she knew that’s what it was, but it happened anyway - and she asked me later that night if she had done everything right given the circumstances.
Although I can’t speak for every person with OCD, I can certainly speak for myself that whenever anyone noticed any of my compulsions, I was deeply ashamed and wanted to just melt into the floor. I was used to people pointing out my compulsions in a bullying way, but no one has ever pointed out a compulsion of mine in a way legitimately designed to help - or at least I never saw it in that way.
I knew my family saw my compulsions and assumed that they were just as embarrassed about them as I was. I tried not to talk about them unless asked repeatedly, and I was always mortified to admit that I had to touch something a certain number of times or only drink water from water fountains out of the corner of my mouth.
And the worst part for me was that I knew in my heart that my compulsions weren’t actually going to help me. I knew that I was just looking weirder than before for no reason. I knew that praying three times instead of once wasn’t going to keep me from throwing up, but I did it anyway, because the alternative was to wallow in endless anxiety that washed over me in waves so powerful that I didn’t know what to do.
Now that I’m older, and have had years of therapy, I have alternate coping mechanisms. I don’t need compulsions the way I did when I was younger - a path that some people with OCD end up going down - but I still remember how strong the impulses were, as if I was a puppet on a string dancing for my anxiety’s sake.
I can’t offer personal experience with compulsions as an adult, but I can imagine that after having OCD for a long time, it would be even more embarrassing to perform compulsions in public. Whenever mine were pointed out as a child or teenager, I felt like a spotlight had been pointed at me, and there was a perfect opportunity for everyone to laugh. Look at the girl who thinks she’s smart, but can’t step on a sidewalk crack!
I can imagine the deer-in-the-headlights look Mom described to me, as well as how the man seemed to want to get out of the situation quickly. But I did have to commend her for responding quickly and kindly when she made a mistake, which stopped the situation from getting any worse.
Instead of asking more questions or offering pity, Mom did her best to defuse the situation and make the man feel as comfortable as possible. There was damage done, but at least it was one blow that came from innocence instead of repeated and deliberate mocking of what he needed to do to survive.
This may sound dramatic, but even years after performing regular compulsions, I remember how much of my life they took up, how many pleasant memories they usurped. I remember how, in stressful situations, they always got worse - and I am proud to have a mom who saw someone in a stressful situation, made a comment out of a desire to help, and then supported a total stranger the best she could.
When I was growing up, I never would have had the courage to admit that I was doing a compulsion to a total stranger. I barely admitted it to the people who I loved most, and many times then, they didn’t know what to say. It’s experiences like these that show me that we as a society are making progress toward a more open and tolerant world.
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.