Jake B.

Photography by Emily Daly

If you’re reading this, I want you to know that the feeling of fear you may feel every day is the greatest opportunity you can get.

I first wanted to start by thanking every person in my support network that’s by my side every day. To: Mom, Dad, Jess, and all my family and friends who stick with me, thank you for the effect you have had on my life. 

I’d like to share my experiences with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). No, I am not obsessed with cleaning or making sure my bed is made. OCD to those who may not understand is a disorder where people have reoccurring unwanted thoughts that cause immense amounts of distress every day. This is something I have lived with for the better part of 4 years. 

I never thought anything of my weird obsession with the gym in high school and the fact that I would obsessively calculate the required amount of carbs I needed in a day to bulk up. It never occurred to me that thinking all progress was lost after missing a single workout was cause for concern. Also, calculating the GPA I needed to get into a college every day in the last two years of high school never dawned on me as weird. I kind of brushed it off and continued to what I thought was just a good work-ethic. But as I look back on that today, it was a sign of a rough future to come.

I was driving home from a friends house around 11pm when I made a turn to get to my house. I ran over a few branches on the road that caused a crackling noise underneath my car. I thought nothing of it, until I walked into the front door of my house that night. A thought popped into my head “Oh my god Jake did you run over something that you mistook for a tree branch”. Immediately my sirens started going off in my head. That night I had to sneak back out of my house to go drive around the block to make sure. The thing is, I only expected I would need to do it one time. My thought process had taken such a turn for the worse I drove around in circles making sure nothing had been hit for over 2 hours. I emptied my recently filled tank checking to see if the tree branch had been mistaken for something worse. 

After a few days I kind of shook it off but still moderately stressed about the situation that happened that night. I knew that nothing was actually wrong, but my brain had falsely signaled that something was. I went to the gym to shake it off. In the gym I found another ridiculous slap in the face. I had accidentally drank out of a strangers water bottle, and within 3 minutes had convinced myself I had contracted a deadly illness. It sounds absurd but for some reason I couldn’t help it. I went home sweating, not from the lackluster set of pushups I did, but from the emotional wreck I had created of myself in the gym. I spoke to my mom about it, and we decided therapy was the best way to go about helping me. 

For the first few months I had experimented with new workout regimens, meditation practices, and antidepressant medications to try and get the situation under control. I needed to find something that would help curb my fear of getting out of bed in the morning. What normally would have been a day playing basketball with a friend, would be occupied by appalling thoughts that I mistook for reality. 

Eventually, I was able to concoct a productive attack plan to help get this thing under control. I began going to Meditation Based Therapy, in conjunction with medication and exposure and response prevention therapy. ERP is a grueling therapy that forces your brain to imagine the scary thoughts coming true, so you eventually become desensitized to them. Slowly the feelings of dread would start to dissipate. I knew I had the right pieces around me to succeed, now it was up to me to continue it.

The last piece that has been pushing me through to keep fighting this disorder has been my sister. Jess and I have not always gotten along early on, but if there is one thing I admired of her it was her strength to come back from an Eating Disorder that once consumed her life. I thought to myself, “Jess had done it, so I know I am capable of beating my demons as well”. Whether she knew it or not, her comeback continues to motivate me to get out of bed every morning and face my fears head on. 

To anyone who may be struggling with any mental health issue, I will say that the whole “your not alone” shtick is real. For me, there is something really great about waking up scared to face my fears. It helps me realize that there is opportunity on the other side of it. I’ll be the first to say how some days are better suited for hockey and some candy, because why not. But to really beat this thing, being comfortable is not an option. Pushing your limits means loving your fears. It’s not entirely normal for guys to be outspoken about what they go through mentally, especially those of us with insecurities.

To all who have helped me get out of a hole, and those who continue to push me to keep fighting my fears today, thank you. I’ll continue to wake up every morning grateful for every opportunity.

Jake B., Clemson University

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