Coping with OCD at University

Thank you so much to @HollyMaguire for the use of her beautiful illustration!

The adjustments that come with moving to university and away from the familiarities of your town, family and friends is a big milestone for most of us. But how do you cope when your peace of mind is controlled by the pattern and routine you so stringently abide by. Hayley Walker talked us through her journey with OCD as a university student, and succeeding in a time when the odds feel against you …

“Being diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in my mid-teens meant that by the time I reached university, I was fairly well-acquainted with the ways in which it affected me, and the various struggles and symptoms the disorder brought about. With a lot of practice, a wonderful team of mental health professionals, and a support system I couldn’t live without, I’d become familiar with my OCD triggers; I could identify situations that helped me – and ones to avoid – and I could recognise my own potentially dangerous thought patterns, usually able to squash them down before they grew into full fruition.  

For those of you who aren’t familiar with OCD: it is essentially an anxiety disorder. As a brief disclaimer, I can only talk about my own experiences with the illness (it ranges far and wide in terms of both severity and symptoms) but for me, the primary way that OCD differs from any other anxiety disorder is by the presence of compulsions. The intrusive thoughts of an OCD sufferer appear as a kind of threat – almost like blackmail – in which the sufferer must perform a certain action to prevent a certain consequence from taking place.

For me, the blackmailing voice could be as seemingly trivial as, ‘your rabbit will escape from his hutch tonight, unless you tap the bolt of the hutch three times’, or as deeply sinister as, ‘this entire building will topple down on you and kill you, unless you walk up the stairs with your eyes closed’. The thing is, if you give in and perform the action, you let the OCD win. The cruelty of the disorder is that it strengthens its grip on you by keeping you under its control, while simultaneously convincing you that it’s you who’s in control of it. Conversely, if you don’t perform the action, you’re plagued by crippling anxiety, terror and guilt until the next intrusive thought comes along – and the cycle begins again. It’s a real catch 22.

“Like most anxiety disorders, OCD tends to spike during situations of newness.”

Like I said, though, a lot of bravery, learned coping mechanisms, and prolonged exposure to scary situations meant that by my late-teens, I knew how to handle the intrusive thoughts for the most part. I believe that while OCD isn’t necessarily a disorder that can ever be entirely recovered from, it is certainly one which can be kept manageable, with the right tools. I was shocked, then, when I turned up to university, and immediately felt like I’d left that all-important box of tools at home. 

Like most anxiety disorders, OCD tends to spike during situations of newness. For anxiety, ‘new opportunities’ is not a complete phrase unless followed by the words ‘for disaster’, and in a matter of days, I’d developed a seemingly endless number of new worries to contend with – from making making friends to passing my classes, from finding my way around campus to budgeting my money. Everything around me became a source of anxiety, and thus an obsession to try and put to rest. It felt overwhelming and impossible.  

But obsessions and compulsions about my own life weren’t half as much of a problem as the crippling anxiety I felt surrounding the things and people I was leaving behind. So much of OCD is about control, and suddenly, almost 100 miles from my tiny town, the control I held over my personal life was extremely limited. If I wasn’t there to tap the bolt of the hutch, how could I prevent the escape of my rabbit? Intrusive thoughts about my family members dying in car accidents could no longer be quelled or disproved with the knowledge that ‘they’ll be home soon’, because I myself wouldn’t be home to greet them. News of any accidents or emergencies would take far longer to reach me and by the time it did, how could I even help? 

Without the ability to see what was actually happening at home, therefore, my anxious imagination went wild. And in the absence of visual evidence, I had to rely on my own powers of rationalisation. As you might imagine, this is somewhat hard to do when your brain is hardwired towards irrationality. But I managed it. OCD did not entirely ruin my university experience, and three years later I have successfully got my degree. So, in the event that there might be someone out there facing a similar pickle over the next few weeks, I’ve compiled a little list of simple but effective things that helped me deal with OCD at university. 

Tell someone:

This is perhaps a little obvious, and is definitely the most common piece of advice you’ll hear – there’s a reason for that. People won’t always (read: might never) fully understand OCD, but the more people you can notify of your struggles, the wider your support system will be when you need it. If you don’t feel comfortable getting specific with the ins and outs of it, that’s fine, but it can be oddly comforting (and actually really useful) just to know that someone is aware. Ideally, the person or people you’ll reach out to would be your university’s Student Support Service or Medical Centre, but that isn’t always as easy as it sounds. Tactfully sliding your diagnosis into conversation with course friends or housemates is usually a good idea, too. (Or, and I’m definitely not saying I did this, you could always just post about mental health awareness so much on social media that you never actually have to discuss it in real life).  

Find a hobby!

I know this is another pretty cliched response but I promise it’s actually helpful, too. I find that the brain can sometimes undergo a bit of a domino effect with OCD, whereby one negative assumption leads to another, which leads to the next, which leads to more – and on it goes. If you can interrupt that pattern by saying, ‘actually, not everything is terrible. There are good things in the world; this is one of them, and I’m going to enjoy it’, I think that’s pretty powerful. Disclaimer, also, that a hobby doesn’t have to mean joining a sports team or becoming a chess champion – if you want to watch dog videos on Youtube in your spare time, that’s just fine. 

Write it down.

This one was particularly useful for me as an English Literature student (I usually understand things best written down), but I really recommend it for everyone. Putting your thoughts on a page quite literally gives you a different perspective on them – even if it’s as simple as making a list of every intrusive thought floating through your brain at that moment. Separating them into a list can help you focus on one irrational thought at a time – and it’s much easier to rationalise one intrusive thought than one hundred. Cross off every anxiety you’re able to calm, disprove or rationalise until you’re left with only the ones you can do nothing about. Then move on to step 4.  

 Make sure you’re not alone.

Solitude is a breeding ground for intrusive thoughts. And when you’re an introvert, solitude at university can be very easy to find. Even if you skipped out step one (that’s fine!), being around people can offer at worst a distraction, and at best a solution to the darkest of thoughts. I understand how impossible it can be to do the thing you know is best when it gets bad, but helping yourself in a crisis is the highest form of self-care. If you can find it in yourself to do so, maybe suggest a baking night with some friends, a shopping adventure or a trip to the cinema (these helped me a lot – a story I need to focus on for the next 2 hours that isn’t my own disordered internal monologue? Yes please). And if no one is around, or if you don’t feel like you have many friends at uni yet, maybe call or facetime someone from home. In whatever form it takes, company provides a voice for you to listen to that isn’t your disorder’s – and I don’t think we should underestimate how important that can be.  

Ultimately, understanding that moving to university is a time of incomprehensible change and stress – and so an increase in intrusive thoughts is actually pretty inevitable – really helped me too. Even the calmest of minds experience a feeling of anxiety during university move-in season. I knew, then, that I wasn’t getting worse for no reason, and as a result, could also remind myself that this period of difficulty probably wouldn’t be permanent. Hold on to the knowledge that as you develop a routine and become more familiar with your new situation, things should get easier. Until then, take it day by day, do your best, and don’t expect too much of yourself – you’ve got this. 

You can find Hayley on Instagram at @HayleyWX_ or read more of her mental health musings on Twitter here!