It Was Cute Until It Wasn’t Anymore – My OCD, Anxiety, and Depression

by Kayla Ackelson

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Growing up, I was fearful of everything.

Strangers, asking to go to the bathroom during school, sleepovers,
South Street, cars with loud mufflers,
Tornadoes and my chances of getting swept up in one despite how incredibly rare they are in Pennsylvania,
Break-ins, heights, boys, prolonged eye contact, movies,
Basements, dying or a family member dying.
Swimming.
The dark.
My dog running away.
You name it—it kept me up at night.

I would listen to Delilah Rene on the radio every single night because it very quickly became my safety blanket.
She had the calmest voice and healed broken hearts through music.
I would mask the best I could because I was the wild one, the fun one, the jokester.
Never take anything too seriously. Unfazed by others.
I felt that my job was to lighten the mood, and make everyone always feel comfortable.
This is something I still struggle with.

Fast forward to adulthood and my nervous energy wasn’t so cute anymore.
Panic attacks.
Googling every single symptom.
Pretending to be the most easygoing one in every room.
People-pleasing my way through life.

You are only really you when no one is looking.

I wanted to get my nose pierced but didn’t because I was so crippled by the fear of judgment.
Stayed in the lines and behaved.

When you don’t cause trouble, no one worries about you.
Not like they were purposefully ignoring me but they didn’t see the signs because I became so good at hiding them.
Don’t worry; there is light at the end of this tunnel.
Hold your breath for good luck.

I finally admitted to myself and my mom that I had what I believed to be anxiety and depression.
Therapy made sense and helped, bit by bit.

I would catch myself masking, even in therapy, to be a “good girl.”
On paper, everything looked perfect.
Boyfriend, job at a great cultural institution, great family, I was in the prime of my life, adorably cute.
But I was literally pulling my hair out and thinking about death and thinking it might be easier to just run away.
My thoughts started to scare me and I was afraid to be alone with myself.
I didn’t necessarily want to end my life, but thought it would be easier if something outside of my control happened to me.

All of this to say—I had to rewire my brain, and fast.

Neuroplasticity saved my life.
I started reading books on it and boom, it ends up you can change the way you think. Yay!
I added turmeric into my diet, I cut out coffee (my one true love), alcohol, worked out harder, ate blueberries like it was my job, was absorbed with researching anxiety and the brain.

It started as a good thing and very quickly became an obsession, and I don’t say that lightly.
It ended up I was experiencing OCD and here I thought OCD was just a cleanliness thing or hand washing thing.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

All of those things were not bad but, because I was obsessing, they became unhealthy habits.
I was so worried about losing my partner I was clinging tighter, tighter.
I constantly checked in on everything and everyone.

I was hypervigilant.
Scarier thoughts than before.

I found a new therapist and really liked them.
We decided it was OCD and the crowd cheered.

The weight on my shoulders lifted and things felt lighter.
I learned to not fight against my compulsions.
I learned to be an observer.

Notice the thought. Let it pass by without grabbing onto it.
Not every thought needs my attention.

I was in control, not my intrusive thoughts.
Cool.

I decided to give medication a go—because why not?
The antidepressant works so well I think I don’t need to be on it.

​It was still difficult, but things started to take shape.
Years went by from the start of this journey.

One day, you wake up and you realize you aren’t thinking the thoughts you thought you’d think forever anymore.
The thing you were obsessing over is gone or shifted or doesn’t feel as heavy.

I meditate, when I remember to, and I drink more water and I am kinder to myself.
I do my best and give myself grace because I am a first-time human being.
Or at least, I think I am, and if I’ve lived before, I am unaware of it.

I’m not responsible for the way others feel or what they think about me anymore.
Maybe I will pierce my nose to show myself that I am the kind of person who does get a nose piercing.
Multi-dimensional.
I am a proud, complex human being.
I have good days and bad days and in-between days, and it is all so wonderful.

Tough days are just a reminder now to slow down.
Maybe this journey has led me to be stronger and more empathetic.

I am excited to see what is next and where this journey goes.
No longer afraid.

Just being here and showing up authentically and messily and maybe that will lead to something beautiful.

If you or someone you know may be in crisis or considering suicide, please call, text, or chat the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988.

​EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR / EDITOR: Gabriel Nathan | DESIGN: Leah Alexandra Goldstein | SITE ORIGINATOR: Bud Clayman