Insurance-backed ERP therapy allowed me to recover from OCD

My experience with OCD started around the summer of 2020 while I was a college student. Due to the pandemic, I moved back home and my relationship turned into a long-distance one for a while. That’s when I started having a lot of intrusive thoughts. When I thought about calling my partner, I’d suddenly start to think “Am I excited enough to talk to him? Are we having interesting enough conversations? Am I laughing enough? Are we compatible enough?”

Everything snowballed from there. Out of nowhere, a voice would pop up and say, “What if you broke up with this person?” Even though I’d immediately think, “Well, I don’t really want to do that,” my brain would fire back: “But what if you did it anyway? Because if you don’t, you could be leading him on when you don’t actually want to be with him. You’d be a terrible person.” 

This type of exchange would happen seemingly 100 times a day in my brain. Now I realize that what I was experiencing was Relationship OCD, but I had no idea what was happening at the time. So it was confusing and disorienting because I didn’t understand what was going on. 

I didn’t know what I was experiencing or where to turn

Even though I had done a little research about OCD before and was aware of it—in high school I wrote a research paper about OCD and was familiar with its pathology—it still didn’t strike me at that moment that it could be OCD. I just felt very weird and very off. It was creating a lot of anxiety for me, and I began stressing out about these intrusive thoughts and was ruminating all the time. I didn’t tell anyone about what was happening because I felt guilty; I felt like I was a bad person for even having these thoughts of possibly wanting to break up a perfectly good relationship. 

I also kept it to myself because ultimately, I didn’t know what was going on, which scared me. I consider myself to be someone who is in tune with mental health in general because I am majoring in psychology and plan to work in the mental health field. On top of that, I also pride myself on being able to figure out what’s happening in my brain and help myself feel better. 

And so, trying to figure it all out was exactly what I attempted to do. I tried everything. I tried journaling, cognitive restructuring, mindfulness, breathing exercises, positive affirmations—everything that I could think of, and things that usually help whenever I’m going through a rough patch. But none of it worked this time. Instead, things started getting worse and worse. I started to feel hopeless. 

That’s when OCD began impacting me tremendously. It was affecting my ability to concentrate or to focus on classes, and I had no motivation to work. Due to the nature of my intrusive thoughts, it was especially impacting my ability to enjoy my relationship. I couldn’t be present or enjoy it because I would ruminate nonstop.

It came to a point where OCD was taking up so much of my mental real estate that I couldn’t find enjoyment in any of the things I used to love anymore. It affected my ability to be happy; I felt awful all the time. I would wake up in the morning and there would already be a pit in my stomach full of anxiety before I even opened my eyes. I was so sick of it and cried at least once a week. It was exhausting.

Trying to manage this on my own didn’t work 

Around six months after my symptoms first started, I came across the term “Relationship OCD” while I was doing online research, trying incessantly to figure out what was going on with me. The article I found had a checklist of related symptoms, and as I read through them, I realized I ticked off every single one of those boxes. Even then, I still didn’t believe that I had OCD, but I thought maybe what I was experiencing was related somehow. Maybe there was some kind of obsessive-compulsive aspect to what was happening to me, even if it wasn’t precisely OCD.

That’s why they say OCD is the doubting disorder: you pretty much never feel like you have it. 

It also doesn’t help that OCD is so misrepresented. Even after researching the condition, it’s easy to fall back on the stereotypical representations you see in the media. Also, I didn’t have physical compulsions; everything was in my head. That’s another reason why it was a lot harder for me to identify with it.

I continued reading more about Relationship OCD and found out about exposure and response prevention (ERP) therapy. I decided that even if I didn’t have OCD, maybe ERP could still help me. I followed the processes I’d read about and tried to do exposures on my own, but it wasn’t really working out. 

After several failed attempts, things weren’t getting better, and I felt I was running out of options to manage this on my own. I had been trying so many different things and nothing worked. I realized I needed someone who was experienced and would know the best way to guide me through my struggles. I finally decided to seek help from a therapist.

I started at my university’s counseling and psychological services center, booking an appointment with a counselor there. I explained everything that I was dealing with to her. It was a positive experience for me, but from the way that she made sense of my symptoms, it didn’t sound like she was approaching it through the lens of anything remotely related to OCD.

At that point, I strongly felt that there was some obsessive-compulsive aspect to what I was going through, so although this counselor was very sweet and nice, I felt I might be better served by someone who specialized in OCD. I still didn’t think that I necessarily had OCD, but I thought that someone who knew about the condition could help me if it was at all related to OCD.

Seeking the right care from an in-network therapist

I got a referral from my counselor to see a specialist, and I had access to the entire Anthem Blue Cross and Blue Shield network of therapists. At the same time, I had heard about NOCD through my university and knew that there was this company that specialized in treating OCD, with therapists who exclusively treat people with OCD and related conditions. Their therapists also accepted my insurance. 

These factors made me think that NOCD could be perfect for me; they’d already done the work for me of finding qualified, trained OCD specialists covered under my plan, so it seemed easier for me to go straight to the experts. I called them up and talked to a member of their care team. I explained what was happening, and the NOCD care team member responded with “That sounds awful. We understand because we’ve been there.” The process was smooth and comforting, and they immediately booked me to meet with one of their therapists who was in-network with my insurance provider.  

I learned that with my specific plan benefits, my copay would end up being $0 per session. That was incredible! Knowing insurance would cover my sessions eased my mind significantly, and it gave me the time I needed for treatment to work for me. I truly believed in the importance of treatment and would have tried it anyway, but as a college student, it would have been a lot more stressful, given the typical costs of ERP treatment for specialists outside of NOCD. I was able to be a little bit more relaxed throughout my treatment without cost weighing on my mind.

I met with my NOCD therapist within days, but inside I feared she wouldn’t be able to help me because I was still unsure I had OCD or anything related to OCD. After our first session, she told me I met the diagnostic criteria for OCD, and I had a pivotal moment. I realized, “This is not something that I’m making up. This is a legitimate condition that’s being recognized by a professional.” It was validating—and scary. But most of all, I had a renewed sense of hope. 

Insurance-backed ERP changed everything for me

My therapist was incredible, and we worked well together. She supported me every step of the way. Still, treatment was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. There wasn’t linear progress, and there were many points where I was fully ready to give up. I worried, “This isn’t working. I’m going to quit.” But with my therapist’s support, I worked really, really, really hard on it.

That’s exactly why it’s difficult, if not nearly impossible, to do ERP on your own: you need a trained professional there who understands OCD, knows how to help you, and is going to keep you motivated. Having insurance coverage helped, too, not allowing me to give up as easily, since my sessions were covered.

Eventually, things got much better, and I began seeing real progress after only two months of treatment. Now I can honestly say that ERP therapy changed everything for me. My OCD has become completely manageable, to the point where I haven’t had major OCD symptoms in months now. I’m also still in my relationship, and it’s going great. 

I’m a lot calmer and happier, and I feel like I’m back to being the person I was before OCD debilitated my life. I never really believed I could get back there—I thought that I might be dealing with this forever. I don’t know what kind of place I would be in right now if I hadn’t done treatment, and if insurance hadn’t covered it, but I’m very, very grateful for NOCD.