Comparing OCD and BDD

Comparing OCD and BDD

Guest Blog Post by Calum Petersen

If you’re reading this, chances are that you too are a prisoner locked away in your own mind. You likely developed Stockholm syndrome long ago and have grown accustomed to the captivity. Each and every day you stay locked away, because you’ve forgotten what it means to be free. You may find yourself in constant pain, but who really understands you like your captor understands you? Life may be difficult at times, but you can always count on your captor to be there for you. And so you never leave.

What I’m describing here is how it feels to have Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD). I’d imagine this is how it feels for you too. Please allow me to share my story about how I got to this point:

Crippling OCD Since Childhood

I was diagnosed with crippling Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) as early as I can remember. It entrenched itself into every aspect of my life, guiding my actions like a maleficent puppeteer reveling in the torment it could create. I’d be up at all hours of the night, unable to sleep, because I had to fulfill some urge that some small but extremely powerful area of my brain was commanding me to follow. I was a literal slave to these urges.

I spent upwards of 20 minutes at a time repeatedly closing doors because they just didn’t “sound right.” I prayed repeatedly for 45 minutes straight because I couldn’t get the “amen” correct. I was overcome with nonsensical, wholly overwhelming compulsions. With OCD, one typically realizes how illogical these urges are. Yet that villain residing in the deep recesses of the mind sends out compulsions that overcome all logical reasoning.

Conquering My OCD Compulsions

The remedy to release myself from OCD’s tyrannical grip was sheer tenacity and force of will. I had to grit my teeth through a battle between these two parts of my brain. The compulsions became more and more violent when I refused to feed them my sacrifice of self through unquestioning compliance. Eventually they retreated, shrinking in size and power more and more with each passing year. And whenever the compulsions came crawling back, I grew stronger and they grew weaker. And then, one day, I simply did not have these compulsions at all.

What I did to battle my OCD was an exercise in neuroplasticity, essentially re-wiring my brain. I was assaulted by my psyche so continually that enough had become enough. I decided to refuse the compulsive OCD commands. It wasn’t easy and it took many months of practically convulsing in my bed, fists clenched and toes curled, to overcome the compulsions.

Yes, the compulsions were so overwhelming that my body had to seize up entirely just to maintain some power of refusal. The malleability of my brain allowed me to remain rigid in the face of its overwhelming influence. This psychological itch got more and more intense, and sent out more and more signals to be scratched, until at last it just…faded away. Like an unscratched itch. I love making this analogy because everyone can relate to what an unscratched itch feels like.

Trading One Master for Another with BDD

I wish I could say my story ends there, but I had traded one master for another. Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) has been a different beast entirely. BDD isn’t just actions and thoughts like OCD. BDD is also feelings.

Unfortunately, I don’t know how to actively combat a feeling. I can stop myself from looking in the mirror, but I can’t stop myself from getting nauseated when I do. I can stop myself from getting plastic surgery, but I can’t stop myself from desiring surgery. The only thing more difficult than changing the way you look is accepting who you are.

Below is a poem I wrote to reflect how BDD feels for me:

When I look into a mirror,
I see a monster.
I see a man looked down upon
and shamed by the world.

I see the lacerations of my past
and the darkness of my future.
The child once hated on.
The man who hates himself.

This mirror is the bearer of lies.
It is the legless serpent
bolstering the belief
that I am not good enough.

I look into my reflection,
hoping that today of all days,
will be different than the last.

But when I look upon myself,
I see once more that this day
Will be the same as every day in my past.

I hope that my poem and blog post help you to understand the suffering caused by having BDD. Please reply to this post if you are also struggling with BDD and can relate to my OCD story and BDD poem.