I’m an OCD Therapist with OCD & Sometimes My Work Makes Me Feel Like a Monster

Did this title intrigue you? Let me explain

Sometimes, to help my clients heal, I have to sit across from them and co-create the very scenarios they fear the most. I have to look them in the eye and gently say, “Okay. Let’s imagine the worst-case scenario. Let’s go there together.” And then I have to watch as their face contorts with dread and the terror creeps in.

And I know exactly what that terror feels like— because I’ve lived it too.

Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP) is the gold standard treatment for OCD. And it works. But it’s brutal. Not because it’s cruel, but because OCD is. The compulsions, the mental loops, the feeling that you’ll never feel safe unless you neutralize the fear—it’s a hellish way to live. ERP helps break that cycle by asking people to do the very thing their brain tells them is unsafe.

I’ve sat with clients and asked them to write fake obituaries for loved ones. To imagine harming someone they love. To sit with the thought that they might be a bad person, or a fraud, or faking their entire reality. Or the thought that they’ll never be sure if they’re safe, or good, or real. I’ve asked them not to wash, not to check, not to apologize. And I’ve watched their nervous systems panic in protest.

Honestly, it sometimes feels like I’m inflicting pain. And in a way, I guess I am. But it’s pain with a purpose. And every time I do it, I do it with a full heart and deep reverence—because I know how much trust it takes to stay in the room. I know how hard it is to sit with uncertainty when your brain is screaming for a guarantee.

I know, because I’ve been there.

I’ve had my own battles with OCD. I’ve known what it’s like to question your thoughts, your safety, your identity—to feel hijacked by an intrusive fear and then spend hours trying to make sure that fear isn’t true. I’ve cried in protest. I’ve Googled things that are definitely not “normal” to google (monkey covering eyes emoji). I’ve gone down the line of my list of “safe” people, calling one for reassurance, only to call the next, and the next. I’ve avoided, confessed, spiraled, looped.

And I’ve also done the work.

I’ve sat across from my own therapist and said, “I don’t know how to be okay if this is true.” And they said, “I know. And let’s stay with that together.”

That’s what I try to offer now. Not quick fixes. Not certainty. But companionship through the storm.

ERP isn’t just about tough love or throwing people into the deep end. It’s about titration. Co-regulation. It’s about creating a safe enough container to do something wildly unsafe-feeling. It’s about helping someone build a relationship with their fear that doesn’t require escape or control.

So yeah—sometimes I feel like a monster. But more often, I feel in awe of you guys.

In awe of the bravery of the human spirit. Awe at the capacity we all have to move toward what scares us, especially when we have support. And isn’t that really what life is kind of all about? We don’t get to get rid of risk, but we don’t have to go through it alone.

Everytime I witness a client face their biggest fear, I feel a little bit braver myself to take on the uncertainties and hard truths of life.

If you’re in that place now—looping, doubting, and maybe, terrified underneath it all—I want you to know: you’re not alone. And there’s a way through this that doesn’t require certainty, just courage.

And I’ll sit with you in the hard stuff. & I won’t flinch.