How My Depression and OCD Affect Each Other

The hardest part about writing on the subject of depression is either you’re depressed — which makes it difficult to write, as you are … depressed — or the depression has passed, and the subject matter is difficult to dive back into because the feelings have … passed.

So, I tackle a heavy subject here with a brain sort of halfway in-between the above. Maybe that is the right place to be as I go into this.

I feel — and I could be wrong — that what I would write on the concept of depression would be rather obvious and not at all novel. Depression is a terrible thing, an unknown thing, a devastating thing when dialed up over a 7 out of 10. But for me, it is so simple to describe that I don’t feel like I’d be adding much to the overall conversation on mental health by just exploring “depression.”

That’s where obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) comes in! OCD is always there to complicate things and add much more detail to worry about.

With my OCD, I soothe myself with control. When I have control over my environment, it works to help me feel better. And with having Pure-O OCD, I don’t offload this exercise in gaining control into irrational compulsions like washing hands, touching things repeatedly, etc. Others do, and I understand that.

Rather, I need to control that which is going off uncontrolled and disturbing me. When I am depressed, I often look to that which I do not have control and focus on that as the cause of my depression.

I don’t quite know if these things are causing my depression; I don’t know enough about my depression to know. Depression is a stranger in my brain, but that stranger has some power. But my OCD causes me to focus on fixing things. I am obsessed with fixing my depression when it finds its way into my head.

I often blame others. Oh boy, “blame” is a very loaded word. I don’t like thinking I blame others, and I hesitate to act on it as “blame.” I am not a jerk. I do not want to be seen as a jerk. Blaming others for my depression is a jerk thought.

But I do look to what others are doing around me that is an affront to how I need things to be, and out of my control (places more complex than solved through a simple “please stop doing this,” or “please do this.”), I’m a polite “control freak.”

And I am a control freak, and that is a problem.

The truth is depression is a mix of chemicals in the brain. That much we know. Beyond that, I don’t think any of it is understood well. At least no one has made it understandable to me, other than my observations that it … just … sits there for some time and eventually passes.

This lack of knowledge that I have — and I feel the whole medical universe has — is outside of my control. And that is the problem. I want to control my depression. I understand it is going to happen. I am glad it is not chronic with me. But I need to control it.

And I cannot. So my brain, with my OCD, goes to other things it can control or thinks it can control. Oh, and I can’t use irrational compulsions as a mechanism to feel better. So, I need to go a level up and try to control actual events, situations, people, and all of real life around me.

I don’t have a healthy way to soothe depression. These are my options. They aren’t good, but they could be worse.