Social media has become engrained in the fabric of our culture and the way people interact, express themselves, and consume information. As a Community Manager, being immersed in social media is critically important to my job but sometimes detrimental to my sense of worth and peace. I am disheartened by the comparisons that inadvertently emerge as I tap and scroll, tap and scroll.

As a child of the digital age and a person with Pure Obsessional OCD, I have observed abundant overlap between these two identities. Social media feeds are dictated by algorithms. Take Instagram for example: a Search tab so generously populates your feed with images and videos that might be of interest to you based on your behavior online. This is exactly how intrusive thoughts work. I have a thought that is ego dystonic, scares me and sets me off down the rabbit hole of mental compulsions in a futile attempt to disprove that thought. By seeking to avoid said intrusive thoughts, you guessed it, we affirm them. “What we resist, persists,” a counselor once told me. And what would have been diluted by simple acceptance, is amplified by the friction our brains set into motion. The same thing happens on Facebook and Instagram. I compare my relationship to the ever repetitive rhetoric of #CoupleGoals, tapping and reading, tapping and linking to yet another related piece of content. My Search tab is then inundated with images of perfectly tan, tone couples. Same goes for body image, professional success, activism, pie making abilities- you name it. Their (insert insecurity) must be more valid than mine, as they receive more engagement. It seems as if they are more worthy. I too portray aspirational parts of my life and work, but am troubled by the unrealistic expectation perpetuated. When I fixate on perfection, then my need for it continues. The sense of urgency remains because I keep sounding the alarm and affirming that it is important. Conundrums scream, “pay attention to me,” and although it negatively impacts my life, I pay attention.

I consistently battle with these themes thereby guaranteeing they remain top of mind. If only I had the perspective to put down my weapons and coexist with the discomfort. If only I had enough confidence in myself, and my intrinsic worth as a person not to compare myself to the carefully curated version of another person. Not to feed into the trap of obsessional thinking. To combat the frenzy, I’ve set up some parameters for social media use. I designate specific times of day to log on for work, not when I first wake up, and not when I lay down for the evening. I want my bed and that time to be a place of gratitude, not comparison. Same goes for uncontrollable worry. I set certain periods to utter my fears and intrusions out loud, when no one is around, and I force myself to sit with them. I cannot try to disprove them and they eventually lose their weight.

In real life, if a conversation isn’t going anywhere you stop talking and part ways. On the internet there is no concrete out as the information is always available, and the behavior is tracked via algorithms outside of our awareness. When your OCD brain latches onto an irreconcilable fear, you can’t excuse yourself, you just endure it and the suffering continues. My goal will always be to reside peacefully in my skin and circumstances, to realize the fallacies at play in my mind, and reconcile with them; the cycle is not readily overcome though. Since I cannot separate from my disorderly brain, I can always log out of the Instagram app for a brief hiatus. Maybe they are one in the same.

When I was around eight years old, I sat in the office of my elementary school counselor's office and he told me I was trying to force adult files into my child-sized filing cabinet. While it wasn't a technical explanation or diagnosis, it gave me a greater understanding of what was happening in my head. I could not sort through complicated concepts without obsessing over their implications. I was fixated on nightmarish topics of harm, violence, and imprudence seemingly all the time. Why should an eight year old be burdened with this material, I often wondered. I cried, and cried often. I was longing to make it through the day unimpeded by what was happening in the confines of my mind, but somehow the fear always overcame me. Fear of what could happen to me, what could happen to loved ones, fear of what harm people are capable of. Eventually they called it OCD. Who would have thought?

Pure obsessional OCD is rather obscure, marked by intrusive imagery and mental obsessions not accompanied by the physical compulsions that shape the understanding most have of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. While the content matter of the thought patterns may vary from person to person, recurring topics of harm, religious blasphemy, loss of control, impropriety, sexuality, and anything that the person finds reprehensible, dirty, or “bad” are common. Like a record on a loop, it plays on and on, anxiety growing with each rotation. The doubt is pervasive. Doubting one's character, intentions, goodness, and worthiness are common. A cloud of irrational fears mercilessly feasts on your vulnerabilities. The song just keeps playing.

Research shows that pure O is so anxiety provoking because individuals who have the condition are among the least likely to act on the thoughts they experience. These individuals are gentle and kind, which is why the subject matter of intrusions is so repugnant and bothersome. Externally, there are few indicators of Pure Obsessional OCD; it's quite invisible. My mother always tells me I look like I am immersed in thought, my brow furrowed in concern. As a society, we rely on what people reveal about their conditions, and thus much goes undisclosed. I think people rarely talk about Pure O because it is embarrassing and stigmatized. There is a level of shame and guilt associated with having thoughts of this kind. Therapists call it thought-reality fusion, or believing these fleeting thoughts mean you will do something bad, act out, hurt another person. Rest assured, it is an anxiety disorder and not a matter of impulse control. While I cannot speak for all, the way I find solace from the intrusions is with a healthy dose of distraction, physical activity, repetitive mantras, and cognitive behavioral therapy. From experience, I have seen that the worst habit is engaging with or trying to suppress the thoughts; suppression does not readily happen. Tell yourself not to think of something and believe me, it is sure to be the only thing on your mind.

Sometimes I feel as if I burden those closest to me because I crave reassurance to explain away the dissonance in my mind. I ask if "everything is ok" and I ask them often, embarrassingly often. Sometimes they enable me and answer, yes, that "everything is ok". They see how desperately I need them to say just that. Other times they force me to rely on myself, to embrace the discomfort, to reside with what frightens me most, which in the long run is more helpful. Regardless, I've come to realize that nothing is ever really ok, and that in and of itself, is well, ok.

To Prepare Savory Pie Crust Cookies:

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
Prepare one batch of your favorite pie crust. Store-bought works just fine as well. Roll out your crust to roughly 1/4 inch thick. Using your favorite cookie cutters, cut out desired shapes and sizes. Place on a greased cookie sheet.
Meanwhile, combine 1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, 1/4 cup fresh chopped parsley, salt and pepper to taste.
Brush your pie crust cutouts with egg wash. (I typically beat one egg and combine with 2 tablespoons of water.)
Gently press cheese and parsley mixture onto each cookie until generously covered. Bake for 12 minutes or until crisp and golden.
Serve with a dipping bowl of marinara sauce.