Over the last few years I have tried and failed to do this half-marathon about four times. What has held me back until now hasn’t been down to physical injury or lack of training (although the challenge of running 13.1 miles has definitely been daunting), but the terrifying prospect for me of telling people the real reason why I have signed up to run for this cause and why it means so much to me. Although the thought of this still terrifies me, I know now that talking about mental health more openly, as hard as it may seem, is the only way we can reduce the stigma surrounding it and raise awareness so that people can get help sooner.

10 years ago I began suffering from a mental illness called Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (O.C.D.) It is an illness that is unfortunately deeply misunderstood in our society. I’m sure many have heard the term O.C.D. thrown about in conversation or portrayed in the media in a comic or dramatic way but few know what it  entails and that it is actually ranked in the top ten of the most disabling illnesses of any kind, in terms of lost earnings and diminished quality of life by the World Health Organisation (WHO).

       When I was 14 I had no idea that what I was suffering from was O.C.D. Like many, I’d only ever heard that term in the context of “I’m a little bit OCD about…” or “that’s so OCD” or in reference to somebody that likes to keep things really organised, clean and tidy. None of my symptoms and what i was going through at the time matched up to what I’d previously heard about the term OCD and so it never crossed my mind that this was something that I was suffering from. In fact, before experiencing it, I didn’t even know that OCD was an illness. 

        As a young teenager I knew that something had changed within me but I didn’t know why and because I’d never heard anyone talking about similar experiences to what I was going through, I thought that i must be the only one that felt like this or that this was only happening to me. This made me feel greatly isolated, embarrassed, ashamed and scared to tell anyone about it, even my family, as I was afraid of what they’d think of me or whether they’d even believe me; and so I didn’t. For almost 3 years i suffered in silence, not telling anyone what was really going on and how out of control and distressed I felt at times and I desperately tried to hide my struggles. I thought that it must be my fault, that I’d done something wrong or that I was to blame for what was happening to me. I didn’t know how i could tell my family or friends at school and try and make them understand something that I didn’t even understand myself. 

         As the years went on though it became increasingly difficult to hide my behaviours and struggles from people. I was often late for things and my life became more disorganised and chaotic, almost too much to bear - it’s ironic that so many have a perception of people with OCD as being really obsessively neat and organised when mine in fact did the opposite. Before it came into my life, i was actually a really organised and together kid. I used to pride myself on being the first out of bed in the morning, the first downstairs to lay the table for breakfast, i could get my homework and studies done in good time and with little hassle but everything changed when OCD came into my life. I was constantly having to make excuses for myself to others to cover up the real reason why I was late or why I’d acted a certain way in front of someone, as in my mind, I’d rather someone think that I was just late or disorganised then that I was weird. I was terrified of people thinking differently about me if i was actually to tell them the truth so it was easier to pretend that everything was fine. More than anything though, I didn’t know how to tell people. I’ve never wanted my OCD to define me or it to be who I am. It’s not who i am, and it never has been. It is just something that has held me back and stopped me functioning as easily as I should be able to. 

I hate to think of other young people in their early teens or childhood suffering in silence and not getting help sooner. It makes me sad that something that debilitates people is still so often treated as a joke or ‘a quirky habit’. Anyone that knows me well, knows that I am someone with a big sense of humour and who doesn't like to take themselves too seriously. However, when it comes to my O.C.D. I have to draw the line. This is because there is absolutely nothing I find funny about Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Just like there is nothing I find funny about Cancer, or Anorexia, or any other kind of illness, physical or mental that greatly disables and affects someone's life. Unfortunately jokes and misunderstandings of mental illness, and with O.C.D. in particular, has only ever created stigmas and a lack of understanding of the illness. And it’s this which stops actual sufferers from seeking help sooner and most importantly getting the right help to treat their O.C.D. 

        Education of mental illnesses in schools and the media and improvement to mental health services in the NHS is so vitally important. I am only now, 10 years, on finally beginning to get the right help after years of failed attempts with wrong referrals, having to go from person to person because there weren’t enough people or the wait was too long or i was given wrong advice/misguided information. All this instability and disruption in my experiences of getting help only made me feel more hopeless and less positive about there being actual good, reliable help and support out there. Fortunately with the support of family and friends I’ve managed to keep going despite many setbacks. But what is strange, is I actually feel kind of lucky that it’s only been 10 years, as for some sufferers it takes even longer than that just to seek help. This just shouldn’t be the case and I’m hoping that maybe one day perceptions of OCD will change and people won’t feel as afraid as I did to reach out and get help. 

It is for all these reasons above that i am running for OCD UK, a charity that is dedicated to helping improve the mental health and well-being of almost one million people in the UK whose lives are affected by Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. If you have any money to spare to help keep this amazing charity going then that would be hugely appreciated. However for me, it is more a case of creating awareness that is most important so even just taking the time to read about my experiences, or visiting the OCD UK website (www.ocduk.org) to learn more about the illness and spread awareness to others would mean the absolute world to me. When I was growing up, I never had anyone to relate to about my OCD, or someone who could make me feel less alone in this “secret illness”. So, if I could in some way make even just one person, young or old, feel less alone then that would mean absolutely everything to me. I hope to one day use my experiences in a positive way to help other sufferers of OCD and mental health in general, but for now just getting involved in this half marathon is a small step towards that. 

Thank you so much, 

Lexi.