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Rebuilding My Relationship with God after Being Diagnosed with OCD
How could I get past the perpetual guilt I felt?
I looked at the clock and shut my scriptures, relieved that my 30-minute study had finally ended. I knelt and offered a mostly passive prayer. The one thing I was sincere about was this: “Heavenly Father, please please please help me know if I’m worthy to go to the temple today.”
I repeated that phrase over and over as tears began to stream uncontrollably down my cheeks and the pit in my stomach grew.
It was the eighth week in a row I had gone through this before my weekly temple appointment. Each week my prayer seemed to grow longer and the pleading more fervent.
I knew I had sinned. I knew I had done something that made me unworthy to attend the temple.
I just couldn’t figure out what that thing was.
My Never-Ending Guilt
I had a habit of repeatedly confessing sins to my bishop. I confessed things that I had done as a child, things I had already repented for, and worst of all—things I wasn’t even sure I had done.
Although each confession provided temporary relief, the next day I would be overwhelmed with guilt again. I began obsessively reviewing my life to find the sin I was sure I had willfully committed.
Each Sunday I would take the sacrament and be filled with the purest peace imaginable. That moment was the highlight of every week. Five minutes later, however, I would be back to painstakingly reviewing my sins and shortcomings, convincing myself that each infraction was far more severe than I’d originally thought.
This constant pattern of constantly repenting and feeling guilty continued until I sought help. Three years later, through the divine guidance of a newly called bishop and small, miraculous circumstances, I found myself sitting in a therapist’s office. I was formally diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD).
Through professional help and acts of faith on my part, I have learned more about myself and how OCD affects my relationship with Heavenly Father.
Rebuilding My Relationship
Although scrupulosity, otherwise known as “religious OCD,” is just one aspect of how OCD affects me, it has been debilitating.
In my battle with OCD, I felt like if I didn’t read my scriptures, pray, or attend the temple, God would be angry with me. With that perspective, worship became dutiful, dull, and repetitive. Like the Zoramites worshiping upon the Rameumptom, I began to “pervert the ways of the Lord in very many instances” (Alma 31:11).
Because of my disorder, scripture study became a time of mindless reading and relentlessly avoiding any passages that had anything to do with repentance. Praying became an apathetic effort. Temple attendance made me feel guilt-ridden and fearful rather than uplifted and fulfilled.
Gratefully, my feelings and perspective gradually changed. As I worked with my therapist, my anxiety became manageable. I began intentionally exercising faith and believing that I could always be forgiven and that God knew my circumstances. I began giving myself more compassion, and for the first time in a while, I felt that God was pleased with me and loved me. My relationship with Him began to be more fulfilling and more empowering. As I prayed for help and healing, I began to understand the gift of repentance and to worship God because I loved Him—not out of fear.
I started understanding what Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles meant when he recently remarked, “Our Heavenly Father’s goal in parenting is not to have His children do what is right; it is to have His children choose to do what is right and ultimately become like Him.”1
Although scripture study caused (and sometimes still causes) me anxiety, seeking the healing power of Jesus Christ and gaining helpful tools in therapy have helped me connect with Him and Heavenly Father again.
Trusting Him
Perhaps the hardest lesson I have had to learn is trusting Heavenly Father’s timing more than mine.
One day as I was reading the blessings He promised to me in my patriarchal blessing, I was overwhelmed with the idea that because of my OCD, the blessings described would be impossible for me. I was promised that I would feel peace, but how could I with so much anxiety?
How would I ever learn to love the temple when I always felt unworthy to attend?
I pled for God to remove my OCD from me. But as I did, a single thought came to my mind: “Would I continue to follow the Savior if He didn’t take my OCD away?”
The thought that Heavenly Father wouldn’t take my mental disorder away was devastating. In the days since, I’ve pondered that question a lot: “Will you follow me if not?”
I’ve learned that although OCD might always be present in my life, God will help me to handle its symptoms and continue to grow. My healing still includes crying, bouts of guilt and anxiety, therapy, and pleading on my knees.
But more and more, my healing involves reclaiming joy in my life, offering myself love and grace, and connecting with the Savior. As I turn to Him, He helps me have the strength to carry on. He is by my side as I weep. I have felt His presence more than ever as I plead for His help in dealing with OCD. I now understand how “he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people” (Alma 7:11). I am learning that He truly does know how I feel and will provide me with what I need as I keep moving forward.
Although the extent of the healing I desire may not come now, I hold on knowing that, as Elder Renlund taught, “‘All that is unfair about life can be made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ’ [Preach My Gospel: A Guide to Missionary Service (2018), 52].”2 I have faith and hope that promised blessings and healing will come—even if that means in the eternities.