A Flawed Healer?
I am a medical doctor and I have OCD
AND
I am not more inherently flawed than the others
AND
I enjoy my life
First, bravo! Bravo, for having had the courage to Google “doctor” and “OCD”. It took me years.
Second, I am deeply grateful that you are here. Indeed, there is plenty of research and effective approaches to OCD, and this website communicates on them. I spent so much time with psychologists that did not know the science of OCD, and did not offer the gold standard therapy (ERP). I remember once, as I asked one of them the approach they were using, I was told that they used a cognitive and behavioural therapy inspired approach.
Would you let a surgeon operate on you, if they were using a technique inspired by surgery?
Let's be serious!
Here you are in good hands. You can relax, and trust.
Third, having OCD and being a doctor is hard.
It is hard, it is excruciatingly hard because you chose this profession to help, and now you are dying in anxiety out of risking to harm others.
It is hard - but there are treatments, including pills and therapy (ERP, complemented with self-compassion, ACT, etc.).
It is hard - but you already did so much of the work. You identified a problem, were able to name it, dared to look for help and found a trusted resource.
Personally, these steps took me 10 years.
You will see, ERP is hard.
ERP is excruciatingly hard, having to stand with 12/10 anxiety, having to experience it without ritualising, having to stay grounded in anxiety, letting it infuse all your cells, while you imagine:
Throwing your best friend's child out of the window
Questioning whether you just poisoned the water bottle someone left unattended
Hours-long fear of jumping out of the car where you are with your family
Hours spent thinking you would mass shoot the entire audience at a beautiful family event
Finding yourself unable to sleep out of fear you would kill the two children that slept in your room
And so on.
With the joy of our being-a-doctor-with-OCD presents any number of concerns:
Fearing not having read the labs with enough attention
Wondering about the image report you thought was normal - and potentially read too fast
Fearing you checked the wrong level of a care sheet (leading to someone not being reanimated)
Obsessing over writing the wrong medication, which no one catches - the pharmacy delivers it, the nurse administers it, the patient dies a long and painful death
And you are the only, objectively absolute responsible for this. Not to mention, the patients you must stare at, as you worry about missing signs of distress, while they ask: “What are you looking for? What’s the matter with you?” - burying you in caves of shame.
But there I need to stop us.
Indeed, even though it is excruciatingly hard for us as doctors, we need to remember what Jon Hershfield once told me: "You doctors, you take yourself so seriously."
Indeed - it is not harder for us! We are just in the same shit as others with OCD. Do you think it’s easier for a children's school bus driver or a cook with a potential deadly hand infection? All of them are also very efficient situations for mass killing of innocent souls.
So let’s not take ourselves too seriously, but do the hard work.
Fourth, what about love and shame?
I guess the strongest prevention for my recovery has been shame. The first book on OCD I bought, I did not read - I just spent all my time thinking whether I should remove the cover or cover it with opaque film
so my partner wouldn’t know I was looking into OCD.
It took me years to dare to say: “I want to have the best therapist.”
Indeed, I felt I would never recover and that I did not deserve anything good. When I eventually dared to have a psychologist that knew about OCD, and who mentioned self-compassion, it instantly brought tears to my eyes. I closed this box for additional years, until I dared to Google “self-compassion”, and found the work of Kristin Neff and Chris Germer.
Their work has been life-changing. I was first able to name that I was not feeling shame - but rather disgust. Disgust toward the objectively, deeply, overwhelmingly defective and worthless person I believed I was, while staring at my oven knobs. Naming that in front of 120 Zoom attendees was a shock. A shock that led to intense sadness and love for this poor human trying to strive and be their best, while being constantly harassed, criticised, diminished, and shamed to the core.
Years of self-compassion practice, and working with shame, made me able to write to you today. Made me able to write that I do not think I am more inherently flawed than others. (Even though I am still not always convinced). I’m starting to be able to think, and embody the thought that a doctor with OCD is not the worst in the world. That actually, having OCD has taught me things:
OCD taught me suffering
OCD taught me that even mundane actions can become impossible
This embodied knowledge makes me a more empathic doctor - to patients and learners
OCD forced me into therapy for 15 years - which has made me more self-reflective
I might know myself a bit more
I might embody some of the qualities that make doctors good doctors:
Acknowledging suffering
Being humble
Being open-minded, curious, eager to learn
Finally OCD, you are so graphic! If I ever write a graphic novel with you, I will have no problem drawing the cruel, evocative images of the hardships you’ve taken me through.
Five, let’s work, with your self-compassion fluffy and warm blanket with you at all times.
Remember: not all people fear poisoning their friends when they come over. You have additional noise to tackle - and that is not easy. Adding a harsh, violent inner critic is not helping.
Let’s do the work. Remember: healing is an iterative process. Yes, you will learn and unlearn. I’m unsure why I wasn’t checking my oven knob last summer - and now it’s excruciatingly hard not to.
Gather, look for help, seek peer support.
You are not doing a sprint, nor a marathon - you are living your life. And each additional minute is loaded with suffering and joy.
Being together is deeply helpful.
You are not alone.
We are here.
— Anonymous