With Trauma Came OCD, but Then Came Jesus

16 Aug

Written by Amelie Salas, Australia

5:02 AM snapped onto the screen and glared rudely at me as I checked my phone again.

My alarm for work would be going off at 6:00 am, which meant I had less than an hour to get some rest; a feat I hadn't come close to since crashing into bed at 10:30 pm the night before. My body ached, practically screamed for sleep. But that was not happening.

Not at all.

My brain was awake and alert as ever, thoughts crashing over the top of one another like a horrific car pile-up. No matter how many Christian meditations lilted softly from my phone, or how many Bible verses I spoke and prayed over myself, sleep did not come.

That day, I got up at 6:00 am, caught the bus by 7:00 am, and worked an 8-hour shift. All on pure adrenaline.

All the while, the noise wouldn’t stop – and hadn’t really stopped, for years. By now, it was completely all-consuming. If I could sleep, I would dream of my thoughts. If I couldn’t, I would be awake, spiralling deeper and deeper into a pit I hadn’t the faintest clue how to lift myself out of.

No matter where I went, or what I was doing, I would be thinking. Plummeting. Obsessing.

Wondering what God was doing.

Getting Help: Diagnosis, Psychology & Medication

My mental health journey, like that of so many others, started when I was a teenager in high school. I knew I had anxiety, but I couldn’t help but notice mine was different to what my friends would describe. While theirs seemed to be about a consistent worry or fear, mine changed when something more traumatic or worrying than the last thing reared its ugly head.

First, it was about my self worth.

Next, it was about my grades, and the crippling need to live up to a high academic standard.

Then, when I discovered my partner had been unfaithful to me, it became about constantly making sure he was honest and wasn't seeking out other women.

When that relationship ended (and I thank God it did), the sheer trauma of it took over, and the anxiety became about whether I was even attracted to men at all.

Although I sought psychological help throughout all these stages, it was the last one that led me to my OCD diagnosis in August of 2022. God had blessed me with an appointment at headspace, which is an Australian mental health foundation that provides mental health services to young people.

I wasn’t initially going to even meet with the psychiatrist who ended up diagnosing me, but my mum insisted on both of us going, primarily to ask questions about the anxiety medication I had just been prescribed. After I had finished explaining to him the constant, persistent intrusive thoughts and ruminating about my sexuality, he uttered words I never expected to hear:

“What you’re describing is a cycle of intense OCD.”

He explained to me that OCD is often caused by a highly distressing or traumatic event, which then leads to obsessive, unwanted, and disturbing thoughts. A person then tries to cope with these thoughts using certain strategies, called compulsions.

In my case, the event was my toxic relationship and breakup, which caused me to suddenly question my firm heterosexual orientation. My compulsions were avoidance based; I would avoid certain TV shows, movies, and even particular female friends that I’d had intrusive thoughts around – all in an effort to keep my thoughts at bay.

The psychiatrist explained to me that OCD, specifically around one’s sexuality, is actually its own diagnosis! He had met patients before with my exact story; an individual who has always been comfortable in their sexuality goes through an event that causes them to suddenly question this, even when there is no tangible evidence to suggest an actual change in their attractions. And funnily enough, the anxiety medication I had recently been prescribed is commonly used to treat OCD.

In just a single one-hour session, everything I had experienced over the past couple of months began to make sense. It was honestly explosive. That’s why I couldn’t shut off. That’s why my anxiety always seemed worse than others’. That’s why it kept changing from one thing to the next. Everything suddenly fell into place.

Because of my diagnosis, I was able to be matched with a psychologist who specialises in OCD and the therapies used to treat it. I still see him, and he is simply brilliant! God has blessed me and taught me so much through my diagnosis, psychologist, and medication. I can now say God has brought me out of that cycle of OCD, and I’m comfortable in my sexuality once again.

Healing With Jesus: The King Who Suffered and the King Over Suffering

While psychology, medication and diagnosis are all so important, I could not have gotten through these seasons of suffering without my faith in God.

I don’t come from a Christian household, but I found Jesus when I was barely 15, on a Friday night at youth group, and my life has never been the same since. That night was a pivotal realisation that I don’t have to, and can’t do this alone. I willingly collapsed into the fold of God. And, as per God’s timing, I made this life changing commitment around the time my mental health began to decline.

God was, and is, holding me in His arms. He never stops working. And by His grace I, despite doubts and anger at times, never stopped running toward Him. They say old habits die hard, and that is certainly the case with me! 15 years of living life without Jesus and working in my own strength was (and still is) hard to shake. OCD is about control, and I’ll admit it’s taken me years to realise no matter how strictly I follow my compulsions or try to fix problems on my own, God’s plan reigns supreme. He will do His will, and His will is ultimately for the good of those that love Him (Romans 8:28).

During these seasons, I turned to His Word and incorporated regular quiet times. I drowned myself in worship music and began and ended each day with Christian meditation. I prayed persistently, crying out to God (sometimes literally) for help, for comfort, and for peace. In all my tears, He was there.

God finally gifted me the beautiful church community I had been craving for years. He showed up through my amazing friends and family. As a result of these things, I got to know God in a way I never would’ve otherwise.

Jesus, the King of all kings, deeply and intrinsically knows suffering. He knows it like no other, when He took the sum of sin past, present and future on His shoulders that day on the cross. He is a gentle and compassionate God, and our pain is His.

The shortest verse in the Bible, “Jesus wept” (John 11:35), stunningly illustrates the care God has for His people. Even though He would perform a miracle verses later and raise His friend Lazarus from the dead, Jesus was still struck with hurt. There is truly no one better to bring your trauma, mental illness, grief (and more) to than Jesus Himself.

God used the greatest record of suffering in human history for the ultimate good of all of humanity; forgiveness and unity with our Creator. If God can use Jesus’ death on the cross for good, He can surely turn my mourning into dancing. He has. And He will continue to. Refinement happens in the fire.

The words of Joseph and James respectively sum this up beautifully:

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” (Genesis 50:20)

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2-4)

Where God Has Me Now

For the first time in around three or four years, I can say I have lasting peace and joy in our Lord Jesus. In this current season, God is steadily cultivating in me a heart of forgiveness toward those who have hurt me, and consequently, have contributed deep trauma to my life.

I’ve learned that healing and forgiveness work together. As a follower of Christ, I must be pursuing forgiveness. I cannot allow the reality of my victimhood, no matter how valid, cloud my vision to the point of pride.

Pride separates us from God. At the end of the day, there is no difference between me and my enemy. We have both sinned against God in countless ways, and are both worthy of His wrath.

This doesn’t mean it’s an easy road. Some days I wake up in seething anger, longing for my own justice and retribution. Other days, my heart feels softer. I’ve accepted it’s not a linear process, and no matter what, God will be with me every step of the way.

As for my OCD, it’s definitely a whole lot more manageable than it used to be, and I can live the majority of my days carefree. I can sleep again! But, it still rears its head from time to time. Right now, my intrusive thoughts surround the trauma I have experienced, and my compulsions are still avoidance based. Yet, by the strength of God, I have entered what I like to call my “Reclaiming Era”! This means I try to visit places, listen to songs, do activities or eat foods that I’ve associated with a traumatic memory. This helps me to fix my eyes on Jesus, not on my trauma, and reminds my heart that He has ultimate dominion over all things.

I still seek God throughout each day as often as I can (but of course, we all fall short – none of us are perfect!), and He is still teaching me so much. I’m genuinely excited and hopeful for the future, and for even more growth to take place. Yes, there are trials to come. But, I am confident that God will carry me through, just as He has each time before.

Jesus says to each and every one of us, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). I pray that you too would take heart in Jesus.