Infection: A Deadly Obsession


About two years ago I was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder. Often referred to as OCD, it is a debilitating, incapacitating, disease of the mind. It can take over your life like nothing you can imagine. It left me weak, depressed, nervous, and with no self-esteem. This disease creates obsessions and compulsions in the mind of the afflicted that the individual must repeat or do in order to decrease the amount of anxiety that they are feeling. Often the individual must be affirmed of a known fact because they doubt reality. This is caused by irrational fears or thoughts that are created by this disease. This was the case with me. I was absolutely positive that everything I did was going to infect me with HIV. I couldn’t shake hands with people, I couldn’t get change from the grocery store, and I definitely couldn’t get shots or get my blood drawn at the hospital. I couldn’t take part in social activities where people might touch me; I couldn’t have relationships or kiss people. I couldn’t even hug my parents good night. It took over my life and left me all alone in my room, where I could be in a sterile, non-contact environment with my computer and my books.
It all started when I was molested by a friend of mine that I had known since middle school. A bunch of guys and I went up to Whistler, Canada, a skiing resort to go skiing over the New Year’s break. Well, it came to New Year’s night, and we all got a little toasted, and I decided to go home early because I was getting really tired. I had fallen asleep and awoke when someone--my friend--crawled into the bed with me at about three in the morning. I was too tired and drunk to even care, so I just turned over and lived with it, even though it was explicitly planned that I was to have my own bed. Then he started touching me, and I didn’t have the power or the will to do anything about it. The saga continues, and that is what happened. When I called my mom the next morning sobbing, she freaked out and said that I could have been raped and possibly have exposed myself to the risk of AIDS. I repeatedly asked my friend what had happened and if we had sex, but unfortunately he was too inebriated to remember. It was hard for me to remember because not only had I taken all my medications, but I had been drinking. Back then I used to mix alcohol with medication, but now I know better, it is a very bad idea.
Ever since my mother said I could possibly have exposed myself to AIDS, the fear that I might contract the disease turned into a complete obsession. It almost got to the point where I couldn’t attend school because I would have to touch the other students and there was a chance that they might touch me. It was just a completely irrational obsession in my mind that perhaps they would have a cut and I would have a cut, and their blood would get into my body somehow. I would cover up all parts of my body, wear long sleeves, and it got so bad that I began to wear gloves to school. I even went to the medical supply store and bought latex gloves to put underneath the leather gloves that I wore so that in any case that blood went through the leather, there was no chance that I could get infected. My mind blew up miniscule chances, minimal risks, weird situations, and contorted them into images of blood infecting my body. If someone brushed by me, I would construct in my mind a whole scenario where they had just cut themselves and were bleeding and they had touched a part of my skin that was bleeding, and they had infected me. OCD was spreading through my mind like an infection, and it was getting worse every day. I couldn’t wait to go home and find solace in my room where there was no outside contact.
In my room I would spend my time playing on the computer. I made friends over the Internet. This way I wouldn’t have to touch them. They were safe and uncontaminated. Or even if they did have HIV, there was no way I could contact them. My life turned to an utter, horrible hell filled with visions of blood and contamination and fear. If I wanted to buy something I had to borrow my mother’s credit card so I would not have to get change. Ironic as it may sound, things could only get better from here, because I couldn’t imagine much worse.
I slowly did manage to develop a relationship with a girl, Tristan, whom I had met in a statistics class. I felt comfortable enough with Tristan to share some of my misfortunes and problems that I was going through. The only reason I confided in Tristan was because she was the only one who asked me why I wore gloves and noticed that I always had Band-Aids all over my hands and my arms. Every little paper cut and small sore had to be immediately covered with a Band-Aid so it couldn’t possibly be exposed to another person’s blood.
Tristan and I went to coffee a few times, and I had to make a few things clear to her about how she couldn’t touch my hands. She couldn’t touch my coffee to pick it up for me, and she couldn’t touch any other parts of my body just to be affectionate or as a gesture. She agreed, and we had some nice conversations. I told Tristan what a hard time I was having socially and how I was basically living in a solitary cave in my room, without any real contact with people. After a long chat, she mentioned that she tutored someone in biology who had the same problem as me, but a little different brand of OCD. She thought that it would be interesting for me to finally meet someone who suffers from the same sorts of problems that I do. She told me that if I did meet this person, I would have to swear never to let on that she told me that he had OCD, and to never let him know that we had previously arranged our initial meeting. She decided to have us meet soon.
When I met Nathan in the library I saw a huge pouf of dyed blond hair hiding a pair of beautiful, honey-brown eyes. Quickly I saw Nathan turn around and start playing with the computer, practically pressing his face against the monitor and turning his back on me. I introduced myself to Nathan and he barely mumbled a few words to me in polite acknowledgment of my presence. Tristan told me later that even though he was very socially phobic, once you got to know him he was a real gift.
I didn't see Nathan for a few months after this, and during this time I was getting a lot better. My doctor had been increasing my doses of Paxil (an antidepressant specifically used for OCD), and I seemed to be responding remarkably well. I now was able to hug my parents good night without checking their bodies and hands for cuts. I was able to go to school without gloves on, and I was able to be around people in moderation--if there wasn't a lot of social contact.
Over spring break Tristan invited me to go with them to collect plants for their herbarium in biology class, and we went to a bunch of beautiful places in the Columbia Gorge, and Sauvies Island out by the ocean. I developed a fondness for this strange, silent, beautiful creature. The mystery that he exuded and his shyness kept me intrigued. He talked to me a little bit when we went off alone without Tristan to try and find certain plants. I did my best to help him find the plants and label all of the genera, and I helped him find new herbs and flowers. I tried to pry out the beautiful mind and warm heart that I knew lay beneath the scared surface of a boy trying to keep it all together.
Over spring break I noticed that I did a few things that my obsessions wouldn't normally allow, yet for once I had no anxiety about them. I was now able to receive change from cashiers at the store. I was able to allow my parents to hug me good night and to touch my hands. I think a lot of this had to do with the Paxil kicking in after my blood levels had been stabilized over a long period of time. All medications take a while to work; they are not instant miracles. But something was happening within me that had opened me up, made me unafraid, taken me out of my shell, and I think it was Nathan.
Later that month Tristan began inviting me in on their study sessions to have a break, eat dinner together, or just to walk around the campus in the fresh Oregon air. One night the three of us all hung out and chatted about life, school, and religion. Eventually it got late and Tristan’s boyfriend picked her up. It was just Nathan and I. I asked him what the sign on his door that said “drugs” meant, if he didn’t mind me asking. He said it was to remind him to take his medications every morning and noon. I then pried more and asked him what he was taking the medication for; he told me it was for his OCD. I immediately jumped in with the fact that I suffered from the same terrible affliction and we chatted back and forth about our separate obsessions and compulsions. It turned out that he had a huge social phobia, and also had anxiety about doing things that he needed to get done, and so he would lose himself in computers, gaming, and programming. It was so beautiful and nice to be able to talk to someone who had gone through the same things as me and was experiencing the same sorts of feelings. We talked for hours and hours on end, and it finally became very late.
I was feeling a little tired, so I lay down on his bed for a bit, and I muttered that I should probably go to my friends’ room to go to sleep. He lay down behind me and put his arm around my waist. Oh, it felt like heaven to have him touch me, and for once I wasn't really scared. I wasn't scared of this strange creature from heaven who had happened to drop into my dark universe and make light of something so awful. We had a cosmic bond that no one else would understand, and we had seemed to connect in a way that I had never felt with someone else before in my entire life. I felt that I understood him and he understood me. I turned around and looked into his beautiful big brown eyes and swept his brown hair away from his face. Nathan smiled and moved closer to my face, he began to kiss me and I kissed him back. That night was the greatest night of my life, and I had received the most tender, loving gesture that I had ever experienced. Like a perfect gentleman, he walked me down to my friend’s dorm room and hugged me good night at the door to the residence hall.
The next day I fretted and moaned because I was scared that Nathan wasn’t going to call me. Tristan said that he probably wouldn’t because he has a real problem making phone calls, and a phone call to a girl would probably double his anxiety. I began to cry thinking about how sad it is that I probably would never really hear from him again, and I would just feel stupid tagging along with Tristan as they study or go find some more plants. The whole day was spent pouting and moaning to Tristan. Just as I was about to continue with my incessant moaning to Tristan, my phone rang. To my surprise, I was greeted with a soft, shy voice that sounded almost unearthly because it was so quiet. It was Nathan! I almost screamed, but I managed to maintain my cool. He invited me to dinner
I couldn’t control myself. I was sweating through my anti-perspirant. My face was shiny with excitement. I couldn’t help but blurt out the words that I had waited so long to ask, and the real truth that I had to know. I had to know how he felt about me and what he thought about our kiss. I had to know if he wanted to be with me. I wasn’t going to just wait and see if he was going to come around. I was getting to the phase in my recovery where I wanted to start a relationship with someone--I might even be able to hold their hand and kiss them. Also, my OCD made me need instant answers and immediate gratification to my questions, I could not let this wait.
I finally gathered the courage to ask him what he thought about me and if he wanted to pursue a relationship. I didn’t get an answer for about ten minutes while he sat there and kept on looking off in different directions and giving me strange little mumblings about how hard it was for him to make decisions like this and blah blah blah. I was dying inside. My stomach was churning, and my mind was turning black. I told him that it was okay, he could just tell me he didn’t like me, and just hurry up with the whole thing. He told me that he did want a relationship with me, but when things like this came up, his mind split into two halves and there was a part of him saying “yes, yes, yes”, and then, there was a deeper, darker, anxious half telling him to hold back and being negative about the situation. He finally took my hand and told me he wanted to be with me. After dinner we went outside and he held me around my waist under the moonlight. We walked over to my car, and he began to kiss me ever so softly and sweetly.
Ever since that night at the restaurant, we were always together. We didn't leave each other’s side for more than a half a day. We have both given each other a sense of strength and inspiration that no doctor, hypnotist, therapist, or group treatment could have ever given us. We had both run the whole gamut with the medical and therapeutic profession, and neither of us had really found what we were looking for. We weren’t looking for an answer, and certainly not to stop all of our troubles. The fight will always be there, you fight OCD every single day of your life. I think we both needed someone like ourselves to understand, to accept, and to love.
I have realized that dreadful circumstances can often lead you to a beautiful place you would never have found otherwise. I wouldn’t appreciate and love Nathan if it weren’t for all the pain and suffering I have been through. No one will ever know where their pain and tears might lead them in the end, and now I have found the best friend and lover in my boyfriend Nathan. It is important to remember that whatever situation you are in, no matter how horrible it might be, something good is going to come out of it. God does not instill pain in the hearts of the ones he loves if it were not for a greater plan, and that is to find love in yourself or from someone else. Pain and suffering can often lead to a greater beauty, the one of connection, connection from and in another person. That is true beauty. Love is often painful, but anything that is worth it in life, comes with pain and suffering. That is why I believe that love can be so beautiful. Nathan will always have a special place in my heart.