This post comes from our regular contributor, Melanie Lefebvre. 

I once kept my OCD diagnosis under lock and key. It may as well have been in Fort Knox.  But today I’d have it displayed on a Times Square billboard; not because I’m proud of it, but because I’m no longer ashamed.

The power of the World Wide Web had a lot to do with this. People say, “get off your phones and smell the roses.” I’ve smelled the roses alright—the roses of an online OCD support group and the aroma is still lingering.

It took courage to join almost a calendar year ago. I debated whether to create an anonymous profile but the inconvenience of having to swap accounts triumphed. I was naked in cyberspace, so to speak. But thankfully we all were. A community of vulnerable souls connecting over our commonality: OCD. 

Prior to discovering the online secret garden, I read through the experiences of people commenting on a psychologist’s blog who had written an article about hit-and-run OCD. I joined in, dubbing myself “Secretive.” But the activity was low. We were scared, anonymous posters who needed more than a new response once a month.

The secret garden came to my rescue and broke down my security measures: I posted about my hit-and-run OCD with my name attached to it. This was real. This was raw. To read other people with OCD tell me that they were going through the same thing was more than any olfactory experience I could partake in.

The members have shared many nuggets of wisdom with me: anxiety is part of the process—it means you’re trying; there’s bravery in doing exposures even if you end up succumbing to the compulsion. They’ve validated me when my efforts have felt futile: exposure can feel pointless with no endgame in sight, but they’ve reminded me to keep at it.  Progress is measured with actions, not anxiety. 

 I’ve made connections that have blossomed into friendships. I’ve chatted for hours exploring the ins and outs of my formerly secret world of OCD and connected the dots with theirs.

 I work in mental health and had always known about peer support on an intellectual level. It made sense that receiving support from someone who’s walked in your shoes would provide a different level of comfort. But it’s not until you walk in those peer support shoes that you feel the security of the insoles, forming to your feet and letting you know you’re walking your path in good company.