There is no doubt in my mind that if I didn’t have my wife’s support with my OCD I would not be able to make it. If my wife chose to leave me, I would understand because I don’t know if even I could live with someone with so many obsessions. Living with OCD inside you is difficult, but I believe to live with someone with OCD is even more difficult. My wife married me because she loved me for the person I was, but with my OCD breakout she found herself married to a stranger. When my OCD was at its worst, she told me many times that she wanted her old Mornay back. OCD was taking away the man she had married.

OCD is a very selfish disorder, and I was always thinking about myself. It was all about me and my obsessions and the compulsive checking I needed to do to make myself feel better. My wife was an outgoing, caring, loving person with a great personality but my OCD was changing all that. We didn’t go out anymore because of all my obsessions, and my wife wasn’t a happy and laughing person anymore. Instead she was crying every day.

I was very selfish, and I was using her all the time for compulsive reassurance, trying to use her to get rid of my obsessions or to confirm that everything was fine and that I hadn’t done anything wrong or bad. I would ask her for reassurance over and over again and would push her so far as to make her put her hand on the Bible and swear that she was telling the truth. While I was seeking reassurance from her it was all about me. I didn’t care how she felt; I only wanted to get rid of the obsession. After she gave me the reassurance that I needed and everything was fine again, I would feel guilty about putting her under so much stress, but only for a short time. Soon I was doubting again and needed to ask her for reassurance again, and then it was all about me again, all about my obsessions and feelings. I didn’t care how she was feeling as long as I felt better.

My OCD also interfered with my wife’s work. She was frequently late to work because she had to drive me to my work first because my obsessions made it impossible for me to drive myself. She was getting behind in her work because she was spending so much time on the phone with me trying to keep me calm. She wasn’t the happy and hard working person that everybody knew anymore, and instead she would cry and feel depressed most of the day. Because she was employed in an open plan working environment, her colleagues could hear her crying and sometimes even shouting on the phone while she was talking to me. A lot of her work friends asked her why she didn’t leave me when I was only making her unhappy. Once again, I wasn’t surprised or offended because it was the truth. I was making her unhappy, and my OCD was changing her as a person. It wasn’t good for her, but she went on supporting me.

My wife’s family and my family could also see what she was going through, and they were angry with me and told me frequently to get my act together. I knew that my OCD was getting out of hand and that I was on the verge of losing my wife, but my obsessive thoughts and compulsive checking were still getting worse. I couldn’t get out of this hole of depression, so I couldn’t do anything to make it better for my wife. Sometimes I thought about walking away, going where nobody could find me. Then at least my wife wouldn’t have to be with me, and she could go on with her life. But I didn’t walk away because I couldn’t live without my wife. I loved her more than anything in the world.

Still, my OCD was very selfish, and even when my wife was sick it was all about my obsessive thoughts. I didn’t think about how my wife was feeling. One time my wife didn’t feel well; she had constipation and a lot of pain. She was taking medicine, but it didn’t help the constipation and pain, so she decided to go and see a doctor. The doctor told her that she had an infection in one of her glands and that she needed to have an operation. When my wife told me, I immediately started my checking methods. I had to be sure I hadn’t done something wrong that could have caused my wife to get ill. (I would do these same checking methods when I hear anyone I know is in the hospital. I need to make sure they are fine, and then I need to make sure that I am not responsible for making them ill.) Instead of worrying about how much pain my wife must have been in and how she must have felt about the operation, I was busy with my obsessive compulsive thoughts. Then a new thought struck me, “What if I was responsible for the fact that my wife was in so much pain? What if I was hurting her when we had sex? What if I was doing something wrong when we had sex?” (I don’t have much sexual experience as I was still a virgin when I started dating my wife.)

I was going out of my mind. This was the most embarrassing intrusive thought I had ever had. I was so ashamed of myself for having a thought like this, and I was trying to get rid of the obsession, but it was just getting stronger and stronger. I couldn’t talk to anyone because I was so embarrassed, and I became very depressed. My wife was in pain, and she was on her way to an operation, and the whole time all I could think was that it was my fault. I visited her in the hospital and tried to act strong. I tried to get rid of my obsession and think about her wellbeing, but every time the obsessive thought just came back stronger.

One night after visiting her in the hospital I was alone in my bedroom, and I was running this obsessive thought through my mind over and over again. I was doing all of my compulsive checking to help reassure myself that I wasn’t responsible for my wife’s illness. I tried to remember everything from the past, every small detail about when we had intercourse, just to make sure that I didn’t hurt her and that I didn’t do something wrong. I felt that I was losing my mind.

My wife’s family was under the impression that I was feeling this way because I was worried about my wife, and I was, but how could I tell them that I was obsessed with the thought that I was responsible for their daughter being in the hospital? I was sitting in my room and for the first time in my life I was thinking about taking my own life. How would I do it? Thoughts about different ways were going through my mind, and I was sweating, and my heart was pounding. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that I wouldn’t take my own life, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it and how I would do it. This was not an OCD thought, this was reality! I was seeing images of myself walking to the beach or going up the stairs of a high building to jump off the roof. I was thinking about how it would be to end everything. I started putting my shoes outside my bedroom window, so that if I decided to walk away I had them ready.

I was waiting for my wife to return from the hospital and was waiting to hear what the doctor had to say about her diagnosis. I thought that the diagnosis might reassure me that I wasn’t responsible for my wife’s illness, or that it might confirm that I was responsible for her pain after all. I was very happy when my wife came home, but I also couldn’t wait to ask her what the doctor had said. She told me that the doctor’s diagnosis was that she had an infection in one of her glands. This information wasn’t enough for me, and I started thinking, “What if the doctor is wrong about his diagnosis? Or what if my wife is lying to me?” After the operation, my wife had severe pain. Her wounds had to be flushed with salt water, and she would cry from the pain of it. I would hear her crying, and the whole time was obsessed with the thought that I was responsible for her pain.

One day I decided to tell her about my obsession. When I told her, she was shocked that I could think such an absurd thought and reassured me that I hadn’t done anything wrong. From that day on, I could talk openly with my wife about my obsessive thoughts without being afraid that she would think that I was crazy or a bad person. My wife started to understand how my OCD was working, and she would help me however she could.

When I have an obsession or an obsessive thought, I normally do some compulsive checking to reassure myself that nothing is wrong. I know that I need to stop the compulsive part to get better with my OCD, but it is very difficult because my brain automatically starts the compulsive checking when I have an obsessive thought. Asking my wife for reassurance wasn’t helping me to get on top of my OCD either. I would tell my wife all my obsessions, and then I needed her to give me reassurance or confirmation that nothing was wrong. I would feel better for a short time, but then I would ask her for reassurance for the same obsessions over and over again. I started to do the compulsive checking alone, so I would not run to my wife with every obsessive thought.

My wife was like the Joker in my pack of compulsive cards. I knew that if I couldn’t work out a specific obsessive thought I could still go to my wife for reassurance. I tried to avoid doing this to make myself stronger and also to take some pressure off my wife. At this stage, my wife could see immediately when I was struggling with an obsession, and she would ask me to talk to her about it. If I didn’t then she would be angry and tell me that I only want to talk to her when I think it is necessary. I told her about what I was learning in CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) sessions and that I was only trying to stop my compulsive behaviors. She understood what I was telling her, but she was still angry when she could see I was struggling with an obsession. She knew I was depressed and would withdraw from everyone and wanted me to talk to her about my obsessions.

She was used to me talking to her about anything that worried me, and now I had suddenly stopped telling her my obsessions. What she didn’t know was that every time I had an obsessive thought and didn’t tell her about it and didn’t ask her for reassurance, I was working it out by myself. It was like a small victory for me because I knew that I must stop the compulsive part of OCD to get on top of it. After a while, when I stopped talking about my obsessions with my wife she got the impression that I was having fewer obsessive thoughts and that I was getting better, but that wasn’t the case. I was learning to control my OCD by not asking her for reassurance, but I still had the same amount of obsessions every day, she just didn’t know it. Because I hadn’t asked her for reassurance in a long time, when I did tell her about an obsession and asked her for reassurance, she freaked out because she thought that I wasn’t having these obsessions anymore. As time went on, my wife started to understand what I was trying to do, and she also read my OCD book to learn more about the disorder.

Without my wife’s help and love I wouldn’t be able to control my OCD. I believe that God chose Charmaine to be my wife because He knew how much I would need someone like her. I hope that someday I can give her something back because she has given life itself to me. Thank you Charmaine for being with me through all the bad times. I love you so much.