Monthly Archives: July 2017

Tuesday Q&A: Erin Venker

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11251846_780769322049276_936520711750468242_nFunny story: Erin Venker lives right here in the Twin Cities and she’s good friends with one of my coworkers, but we didn’t meet until we both attended the 2015 OCD conference in Boston. I knew right away I wanted to connect with her back home, and I ended up asking her to be the vice president of OCD Twin Cities, the local International OCD Foundation affiliate of which I’m president. (Okay, yes, I’ve said this about a hundred times before, but the conference is an incredible way to connect with like-minded people.) Not only does Erin have OCD, she went to graduate school to treat it and is ready to take clients. Call me biased (I’m not, though), but Erin is funny and compassionate and really knows her stuff.

How long have you had OCD? And when did you first realize what you’d been going through might be OCD?

I first had symptoms in 5th grade but I wasn’t officially diagnosed until 7th grade. I was too embarrassed to talk about my intrusive thoughts, so I didn’t realize that was a part of my OCD until years later.

What were your symptoms? 

In the beginning, my OCD was mostly rituals of “breathing in” and “swallowing on” the letter A so I would get A’s in my classes. I also did a lot of magical thinking, for example, having lucky and unlucky colors. It soon evolved to include repetitive praying and confessing to my mom thoughts, worries, and “bad” things I did, or else I believed something bad would happen. I frequently had horrible intrusive thoughts, both sexual and violent. That period of my life is fuzzy; I just remember it was extremely painful. Daily life was exhausting. I thought I was a horrible person and was in constant fear that something bad was going to happen to my family.

What do you think about the phrase “pure O”? Some therapists and people with OCD think it’s misleading because people with pure O do have compulsions—it’s just that they’re usually mental, not physical. Is there any benefit to the label anyway?

I’m still on the fence with this. In college and post-college, my OCD evolved into primarily mental symptoms with rumination, trying to“figure things out” by replaying scenarios over and over in my head, a constant fear of offending people, and reassurance seeking.

Even though I do believe there are compulsions with pure O, I think many people relate more to the term pure O. I’ve talked to several individuals who have obvious obsessional symptoms of OCD, but they do not recognize their compulsive behaviors. They do not believe they have OCD without the compulsive aspect and therefore do not seek treatment. This can be extremely distressing for individuals, especially those with pedophilic, gay, sexual, and violent intrusive thoughts. They feel there is no explanation for what they are going through. They may fear they are actually a “pervert” or want to kill someone, etc. The general population also still sees OCD as an anxiety disorder that just consists of handwashing and being ultra-organized (which I am not…). Hopefully the term pure O will lead to more awareness of the other aspects of OCD.

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Erin’s kitten, Kitty!

Once you knew you had OCD, how did you go about treating it? How long did it take before you began to feel some relief?

I did not receive the proper treatment for OCD until 14 years after I was first diagnosed. Before exposure and response prevention (ERP) therapy, I saw several talk therapists, but found little relief. When I was 28,  I saw Dr. Chris Donahue in Saint Paul. He made exposure scripts during each session, and I would listen to them as much as possible. It was about two months into treatment when I really began to notice a difference in my thought process and feel a huge weight lift.

You’ve used mindfulness to deal with some of your intrusive thoughts. How does it work? Does it work best in conjunction with therapeutic techniques such as cognitive-behavioral therapy and medication?

The first thing I want to do when I have an intrusive thought is to judge the thought and judge myself. Why am I thinking this? This is so perverted. Why is this happening to me? Just stop thinking. I can’t stop thinking about this thought. I cannot stop ruminating about what happened. This leads down a rabbit hole of shame and negative self-talk. I use mindfulness to separate myself from my thoughts. I imagine thoughts as orbs floating and I observe them. I notice my anxiety and accept that it’s there. Sometimes I imagine myself on a diving board looking into a pool. I see my thoughts, and accept that they are there, without diving into the swamp. Imagery and acceptance has been a crucial component of my treatment.

Mindfulness is definitely best used with cognitive-behavorial therapy (CBT) as you begin to recognize the cognitive distortions in your thoughts. Am I catastrophizing this scenario that I have repeating in my head for the past three hours? Is this black and white thinking? Where can I see the gray in this situation?

I have a complicated relationship with medication. I do believe it can be essential in helping people with OCD, but I believe ERP is the silver bullet. Like ERP, it took years before I found a medication combination that worked for me. My hope is that medication will be prescribed more slowly and methodically while encouraging it to be taken in conjunction to therapy. Like with ERP and finding a therapist, do your research on medication and finding a physician’s assistant or psychiatrist who is thorough and understands OCD.

What has been the most difficult part of having OCD? 

It’s exhausting physically, mentally, and emotionally. In the heat of the battle, it feels as if you never get a break.

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You’ve recently graduated with your master’s in counseling—congratulations! You plan on specializing in OCD, using both ERP and dialectical behavior therapy (DBT), which is a more recent mode of treatment for individuals with OCD. Can you explain what it entails?

Thank you! I was very fortunate to work at the Minnesota Center for Psychology in Saint Paul for over two years as a receptionist. They run excellent DBT programs, and I learned a great deal about DBT while working there. DBT has four modules: emotion regulation, interpersonal effectiveness, mindfulness, and distress tolerance.

The primary concept I use in OCD treatment is being in the present moment, noticing your thoughts and feelings without reacting or judging. ERP therapy is all about feeling and accepting your anxiety until the distress naturally decreases without distracting yourself or resorting to a safety behavior.

I encourage clients to “urge surf” when they are tempted to perform a compulsion or ritual. This is a mindfulness technique used in DBT. I tell clients when they have an urge to ritualize, ride out that urge, notice where the anxiety goes, and imagine surfing to the shore as the urge decreases. We want clients to break the cycle of using compulsions and rituals to lower their distress, and instead ride through the discomfort. OCD is also accompanied by general anxiety, so I utilize the self-care aspects of DBT, but not for during exposures.

You’ve also decided not to require that your clients have insurance, and you’re going to charge on a sliding fee scale. Why? 

Due to the rising costs of health care, insurance benefits have increasingly become more complex. Self-pay ensures that the client’s records and diagnoses are entirely confidential documents, as I will not have to submit them to insurance or a third-party payer. The content of sessions stays between myself, the client, and my supervisor, Dr. Vernon Devine, who has more than 46 years experience treating individuals with anxiety disorders.

Due to the nature of exposure therapy, treatment often involves appointments that need to be longer than an hour, multiple sessions a week, at-home sessions, and public exposures. Self-pay allows for treatment freedom as well as the time to get to the root of the problems the client is facing. It makes treatment much more effective. Typically treatment lasts no longer than three months before going to an as-needed appointment basis.

For individuals who are adamant about using insurance, I am happy to refer them to other therapists and give some general guidance for seeking treatment.

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If you could offer just one piece of advice to others with OCD, what would it be?

Be sure you get a therapist who is well versed in ERP. A therapist should help you create a hierarchy to confront your fears and anxiety and not be afraid to challenge you. A therapist does not need to have a PhD or PsyD to be qualified. Several therapists who are MA, LPCC, or LICSW are excellent at treating OCD.

Also, find a support network. If you’re here in the Twin Cities area, join the OCD Twin Cities book club or a support group, and if you’re not, look into support groups and International OCD Foundation (IOCDF) affiliates in your area. I am working on starting an OCD therapy group. Look at the IOCDF website. Read books about OCD and educate yourself. Talking to people who understand and realizing how closely your symptoms relate to others can be a huge step in recovery.

OCD is a misunderstood and extremely painful disorder. However, I have found people with OCD are some of the strongest, most intelligent, and creative individuals. We feel emotions deeply and are highly sensitive. There is a way to harness strength in your OCD and embrace the uncertainty of life.

Tuesday Q&A: Abby Heugel

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AbbyHeadWelcome Abby Heugel, one of my favorite people to follow on Twitter! While I do like scrolling through Twitter to find tweets relevant to OCD and general mental health, it’s also really refreshing to just giggle now and then. Abby manages to shed some hilarious light on OCD and anxiety—without making people who have OCD the butt of her jokes. Knowing you’re not the only person who gets anxious every Sunday night can be just as important as knowing you’re not the only person who has upsetting intrusive thoughts.

A few years ago I came across My OCD By the Numbers, a post you wrote for The Huffington Post, and I loved it so I shared it on Twitter, Facebook, and my blog. Not long after I also started to follow a Twitter personality known as Abby Has Issues. Yes, I’m a little slow, but it took me several more months before I realized you were the same person. While your tweets definitely touch on anxiety, they’re mostly lighthearted and funny. Did you make a conscious decision to keep your Twitter presence more upbeat?

I try and keep my Facebook and Twitter updates more along the lines of humor, although I do bring depression and anxiety into them from time to time seeing as that’s a huge part of my life. But I also want an escape, and that’s what Twitter and Facebook are for me. I even feel really self-conscious sharing my more personal blog posts on Facebook, even though they’re often met with people who say that they can relate. That said, I never tweet out links to the one or two “serious” blog posts I’ve written over the past year. For me, it’s just not worth it.

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You’re one of the funniest people I follow on Twitter, which is exactly why I followed you in the first place. As you noted on your blog, your most popular post is The 10 Commandments of Grocery Shopping. Your tweets were listed among the funniest of the year in 2015 and 2016. You’ve been named a Top 25 Humor Blogger. And you manage to make people laugh and poke fun at anxiety without stigmatizing mental illness or being a jerk. Does humor help you face your fears and cope with anxiety? How do you feel about jokes that do perpetuate stigma?

Yes! I feel like it’s a great escape for me, and I try not to obsess about whether or not anyone anyone is actually reading my stuff, but good luck with that. And the stupid OCD jokes really get to me, which is why I try and share my story and experience. You wouldn’t make tasteless jokes about cancer, so why is mental health fair game?

When did you decide to share your experience with OCD? How did you know you were ready, and what was the response like?

After a while I got tired of hiding it, seeing as it pretty much took over my life. I felt like people should know how hard it really is to even function on a day-to-day basis sometimes, and that each day is really a challenge for me in certain ways. It almost felt like I was living a double life—what I projected online and the issues I dealt with in reality. When I shared a couple blog posts about OCD and depression, there was actually a really great response. People sent me messages saying they could relate, they left comments thanking me for being so open, etc. It was a little scary because people in real life could also read it, but at the same time it was kind of a relief.

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As most of us with OCD know, there’s no cure per se. We can learn to manage OCD, anxiety, and depression—and because of that we also fool others into thinking everything is peachy-keen. What do you wish people understood about what it means to have a mental illness and an often typical, productive life?

I think it’s best summed up in this blog post, which I was really, really hesitant to publish simply because OCD, depression, anxiety, eating disorders, etc. are so misunderstood. But that’s also why I wrote it—to hopefully provide a little bit more understanding. 

Whereas normal stresses would be difficult for “average” people, they are compounded ten-fold for people struggling with a mental illness. Even changing the time of plans can send me into a tailspin at times because it interrupts my routine. I’ve been trying to be more flexible and I know it’s not the end of the world, but it’s still a struggle. And when you’re depressed? Lord, some days you just want a high-five for actually washing your hair or making a phone call you’ve been putting off for a week, even though you appear to be a super productive person professionally, for example. People can’t see that just by looking at you. It’s really frustrating.

And speaking of productivity, you’ve done so much! You blog, you’ve written a couple books and contributed essays to others, you tweet regularly. How do you balance it all, and how does having anxiety affect your drive?

Well, I don’t blog that much anymore at all and the books were done more than five years ago, so I really don’t do that much. Ha. But thank you! I recently lost my job, which has thrown me into a really scary place (see above about stresses happening to normal people versus those with OCD/anxiety/depression) so I guess I’ll have more time to tweet! Actually, I’ve been tweeting even less because to be honest, I feel like my medication might be numbing my creativity, which is not good for a writer. I have to choose between being balanced (ish) and less creative or a total mess but full of more creative ideas.

That said, I was extremely obsessive with my last job, much to my own detriment. I felt like I always had to be working (and working out) and couldn’t even relax and watch TV without feeling like I had to be “on” and doing something productive. It wasn’t healthy. So instead of freaking out about this unemployment, which I am trying not to do, I’m trying to frame it as a new chance to do something with a healthier frame of mind. I know I’m damn good at what I do, so now I just have to convince someone else of that so they hire me to work remotely from home again!

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You recently spoke to CNN about your exercise addiction. First, congratulations on the major outlet for spreading awareness! Second, what advice do you have for someone who may be struggling with the same issue?

It’s honestly my biggest struggle, as it’s how I deal with my intense anxiety and the OCD/routine keeps me doing just as much day after day after day to the point of a detriment to my health. It’s not about vanity. It’s about routine and anxiety, which people don’t understand. My advice would be to tell someone, to be accountable, to get professional help. I’ve been going to therapy now for a few months, as I mentioned in the article, and while I’m still in a bad spot exercise-wise, I have accountability and we have small, manageable goals. Secrets keep you sick, and there is so much secrecy and often shame associated with mental illness, which can stop you from getting help.

You have to want to get better and know that if you feel stuck and miserable with how things are right now, you really have nothing to lose by trying to change those maladaptive behaviors. If you’re going to be uncomfortable either way, might as well be in a positive direction!

When did you realize you had OCD? How long had you been experiencing symptoms before you were diagnosed?

Looking back now I see that I had OCD symptoms and behaviors even as a little kid. They were dormant for quite awhile, but they reappeared in college following a couple of traumatic events. They always manifested with food and exercise, which is extra tricky seeing as those are often viewed as “healthy” outlets. But anything taken to extremes is unhealthy. It was during my second (short) inpatient stay that they finally realized it wasn’t an eating disorder, it was OCD that manifested itself in these behaviors. That was a huge relief that people finally “got” it. It wasn’t about vanity. I didn’t think I was fat. I just wanted an escape from myself.

Once you did know it was OCD, what were your next steps?

It literally took another decade for me get help again. This happened about a year and a half ago when my physical health got so bad I had to have blood transfusions because I was anemic. My doctor told me either I found a psychiatrist and get help or she would stop seeing me and I would left on my own. I finally found one that would work with my outpatient, and a therapist willing to see me, and that’s where medication came it. It took some trial and error and a lot of frustration, but right now I’m on some meds that are still minimal in terms of dosage (I loathe drugs) but appear to be effective. There’s nothing wrong with needing medication. I know now that I’ll probably need it for the rest of my life, but as long as it keeps me from hitting the lowest of the lows or the manic highest of the highs, I’m okay with that.

If you could share just one piece of advice with others who have OCD, what would it be?

Just to know that you’re not alone. There are so many misconceptions and stereotypes that reaching out can feel kind of fruitless, but you’re not the only one that feels the same way that you do. You’re not a freak. There are things that can help you to deal with it if you’re open to sharing your struggles. Trust me when I say it will be a relief…and isn’t that what all of us want?

Tuesday Q&A: Barbara Claypole White

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Barbara-Claypole-WhiteGreetings! My American readers: Happy Fourth of July! Today’s guest is a Brit living in America, so part of me wants to make a Seinfeld-esque attempt at observational humor, but the other part of me says, “Dotson, you’re no Seinfeld.” Barbara, we’re glad you’re here—both in the United States and in this latest edition of Tuesday Q&A.

Barbara is a successful novelist, which takes dedication and self-discipline; maintains several gardens even though a humongous black snake often makes an appearance; advocates for OCD awareness; and has been a loving but firm source of support for her son with OCD. In short, she’s tough, and I love that. Parents of children with OCD—whether they’re little ones or young adults—read on.

Your young adult son has OCD. How did you realize that he might have OCD? 

Such a great question because it took years to get a diagnosis and treatment. I learned the hard way that parents need to do their research and find a psychologist well versed in exposure and response prevention (ERP) therapy. With the gift of hindsight, I can trace my son’s anxiety back to when he was four, but he didn’t receive the help he needed until he was at least nine. Maybe ten.

He was a happy, well-balanced child who gradually started fussing over every detail: Did that cloud contain a tornado? Was the mold on a tree anthrax? I remember saying to my husband, “I feel as if I have to edit life for him.” I was concerned, but I’d never heard of OCD.

Around his fifth birthday, he developed stomach problems and headaches. His pediatrician worried he might be a celiac or have Crohn’s disease, and after a variety of invasive tests that came up negative, I took him to a holistic doctor. He said, “Watch his body language. Your son’s anxious.” Bingo. That was our first turning point.

Then his sleep patterns went to hell, and we consulted with a well-respected child psychologist. She mentioned OCD in passing and told me I had a great son. I did; I do. But she offered no real explanations for his obsessive behavior, and when I told her I helped him avoid situations that made him fearful, she congratulated me on being a good mother. No, I was being an enabler. Bad, bad mother!

Finally, after a family vacation left us in tatters, she threw up her hands and said, “Medicate!” and I refused. Instead, I did what I do as a writer: I turned to research, which is how I stumbled across the IOCDF website and learned that Dr. March’s clinic was down the road at Duke. (I really, really wish someone in the local medical field had shared that information with me.) I enrolled my son, and his second psychologist—who he still sees—was an instant fit for our family.

We did a year of intense exposure therapy, which I charted like a military campaign, but the progress was slow. When the psychologist suggested meds, I felt we had failed, but she explained drugs could lower the anxiety enough so that we could do more work. And she was right. Three years later my son was off meds and 95 percent OCD-free. Life was peachy…until the stress of college visits.

Since then, we’ve been on and off the OCD roller coaster. However, my son never lets OCD hold him back. A kid who was once terrified of flying opted for a university two plane rides away and recently graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Oberlin College. Not bad, huh? Some days are golden, some feel as if they will never end, but we’ve found acceptance as a family. That doesn’t mean we’ve quit; it means we understand that our son has a chronic illness, which needs managing.

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OCD is undoubtedly difficult for the person who has it, but it’s hard on loved ones as well. How did you work through the diagnosis and treatment as a family?

We learned to laugh hard and often, and I’m ridiculously tough for a 5’ 2” woman (my guys are both empathetic and sensitive. Emotional sponges, the pair of them). I became the family cheerleader and joined a local support group. The support group taught me that (a) I needed to be around other moms in the trenches with OCD, and (b) I was blessed to have a strong marriage. I watched every other marriage in that group fail—with one exception. When another member asked why I thought my family had survived, I replied, “Because I’m a stay-at-home mother with one child.” But later I realized it’s because my husband and I make a good team.

We also reached an agreement, early in our son’s therapy, that was essential to its success. We have very different parenting styles, and mixed signals are not an option when you’re battling OCD. As the primary parent, I took over our son’s treatment 100 percent, and my husband agreed to never countermand how I dealt with the OCD. When our son spiraled, I could focus on nothing other than the techniques his psychologist had taught us, but with the security of knowing my husband had my back if I couldn’t cope. One evening, for example, he was at a work dinner when I called and screamed, “I’m losing it.” He was home within half an hour.

I also learned to not beat myself up when I needed a break. A fried caregiver is a useless caregiver, and you have to pay attention to your own mental health. This probably explains why I have fourteen flowerbeds. (Gardening takes me to my happy place—even when I’m ranting about voles.)

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It’s one thing to have a young child with OCD, but it must be quite another to have an adult child who’s trying to live his own life and is naturally separating from the care and oversight of his parent. How did you handle the transition between having your son at home with you and having him live on his own?

It was extremely difficult and equally tricky in reverse (our son is now transitioning back to life at home). When he was 10, 11, 12, I dragged him through exposure therapy with the knowledge I could manipulate him. Horrible confession, but true. Obviously, that’s not the case with a young adult, and I was thankful for every college semester he completed without mental collapse.

But before he left for college, we secured a safety net. Our son opted to stay with his local mental health team, so we set up a system for phone consults. We also made sure the on-campus clinic had our son’s files and arranged to meet with the director during parent orientation.

Communication as a family is key, so we set up weekly Skype chats that allowed us to hear/see/judge first-hand how he was doing. We also told him, from day one, “Even if it’s two in the morning, call if you need us.” And he often did.

Meanwhile, I kept educating myself about OCD and tried to stay alert for reassurance seeking. And failed. When I realized I’d slipped back into the role of enabler, Jon Hershfield’s When a Family Member Has OCD became my life raft. (Buy that book, y’all. Buy it now!)

I also think having a coach—even long distance—makes a world of difference. Therapy is heartbreaking and painful, but it does work. You can help your grown child navigate exposures if you’re willing to be the horrible person responsible for inflicting pain (by raising his anxiety in an exposure). My son and I did this throughout the month of January—with the support of his psychologist—and it make a world of difference to the last four months of college.

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It must be so difficult to see your child in pain and struggling knowing that reassurance can actually impede the recovery process. What advice can you give other parents on navigating this fine line?

First off, hugs to any parent struggling with this. Dealing with OCD is counterintuitive to the most basic parenting instinct: offer reassurance, right? Wrong. If you need a reminder of why, read Jon’s book. When our son was in a bad place, we set a cap on the number of times he could check each day and then lowered it gradually. But this has to be done with your loved one’s approval. I can only repeat: therapy is hell for everyone. Go slowly.

I always start with the simple phrase: “You’re checking.” Also, I remind him of the obvious: Have you eaten today? Are you getting enough sleep? His anxiety spikes when he’s hunger or tired, which makes perfect sense.

To sum up: offer love and support, not judgment. And try to use gentle reminders that the techniques work—if your loved one uses them.

You’re an A2A Advocate. Tell us more about your efforts to spread awareness of OCD.

My efforts are never enough, but I try to support the IOCDF through random donations and social media, and I do whatever Jeff Bell of A2A asks of me. Fiction, however, is my main vehicle. I visit many book clubs, and those visits tend to become open therapy sessions. For me that’s key: I need to keep talking, keep sharing my story, keep reaching out to others. Living in the world of OCD can be isolating, and the knowledge that you’re not alone can make a world of difference. It did for me. There is no shame, and those of us who have acceptance can help those suffering in silence.

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The Unfinished Garden, your first novel, centers around a character with OCD. What inspired you to write about OCD after having dealt with it in your own life? 

I love James Nealy, my first hero, and I owe him everything. He set me on my path to writing hopeful family drama with a healthy dose of mental illness.

The story that would become The Unfinished Garden stared with a different hero. After my son emerged victorious from the first round of exposure therapy, James marched into my head and refused to leave. That’s the kind of guy my James is: persistent. I was also drawn to the idea of someone who’d kept the OCD at bay until something in his personal life re-triggered it, and he decided to fight back. (Ironically, my son’s OCD was in remission when I wrote the novel, but returned full force while I was launching it.)

Once I realized I couldn’t shake James, I tore the manuscript apart and rewrote it with James as the hero, but the story was still told exclusively from my heroine’s point of view. Then a famous agent told me James would never make it as a romantic hero. “He’s too dark,” she said. My British war mentality kicked in, and I thought, “Fine. I’ve got nothing to lose then, have I?”

I rewrote the manuscript again, giving James his own chapters. I took readers inside his head and let him talk about “the voice.” Once I’d finished, I landed the agent of my dreams, Nalini Akolekar. Nalini is my guardian angel. She gets that my family always come first, and she took The Perfect Son to Lake Union Publishing, where it became a Goodreads Choice Awards Nominee for best fiction 2015. In a category with Harper Lee. Squee!

I never ask my heroes: Are you too dark? Now I ask: Are you dark enough? James led directly to Felix Fitzwilliam of The Perfect Son. (Felix has undiagnosed obsessive-compulsive personality disorder.) And Felix led to Marianne Stokes in Echoes of Family. (Marianne is a successful music industry executive who happens to have bipolar disorder.)

Your next book features a mother with postpartum OCD. How did you decide on this character? Was there anything you learned in your research that surprised you?

Yes! The Promise Between Us, which comes out in January, returns to OCD. And it’s just been listed on Goodreads, so please pop over there and add it to your “want to read” shelf. What’s it about? I’ll let my real-life hero tell you:

If you leave your newborn child because you have unstoppable thoughts of harming her, are you a good mother or a terrible one? This dilemma is at the heart of Barbara Claypole White’s novel, a wrenching story of how one woman’s OCD has a ripple effect on those around her—including the people she tried hardest to protect. This is an eye-opening and realistic exploration of mental illness—a topic that greatly deserves to be front and center. — Jodi Picoult, NYT bestselling author of Small Great Things

I’ve always wanted to write more about OCD, and until I found Katie Mack, I had assumed that meant more James. Katie’s a metal artist who took her first welding class as an exposure. How did I find her? Through a heartbreaking incident in the OCD community.

A member of a private, online support group posted about her struggles with pedophile OCD, someone leaked her comments, and her employer fired her. That story haunted me for weeks, and it led me to postpartum OCD and an interview with the amazing Angie Alexander. The moment Angie referred to harm OCD as “the dirty underwear of the OCD world,” I knew I had found my new heroine.

The research was gut-wrenching, but I was fascinated to learn that postpartum OCD can also affect dads and grandparents. And some of the research taught me new coping techniques. My learning curve with OCD never ends…

If you could give just one piece of advice to someone with OCD, what would it be?

As a teenager, I had two specific OCD fears (although I only figured this out recently). I’m not sure why I never developed full-blown OCD, but I would guess it’s because my life has been one big exposure. Like my son, I chose to go far away for college, and every success I’ve achieved in life has come from moving way, way beyond my comfort zone. I can push myself hard because I’m wired that way, and I’m ridiculously good at positive thinking. However, I would never encourage someone struggling with severe OCD to stay in the boxing ring in the way I would. (Did I mention I’m not good at quitting?) When my son was younger, I often pushed too hard on exposures and had to learn that it’s okay to fail. Now when his OCD is loud, I remind my son that a temporary surrender is a chance to pull back and regroup. It’s not defeat. Even in the OCD world, bad days end and each new day brings hope. Never lose sight of that hope.