OCD is frequently misunderstood, and Elena wants to share what living with it actually feels like.
One early example Elena trusted enough to discuss with her doctor involved a very particular way of handling her toothbrush. She would position her fingers along the back of the brush in a precise pattern, then slide them off in the same way every time she brushed. If the motion felt off, she would repeat it—again and again. The ritual could stall her morning routine, especially when she found herself performing the action seven times or more and still not feeling right.
She describes the experience bluntly: when things don’t feel right, the compulsions slow her down, even though she knows the pattern isn’t inherently dangerous. This toothbrush ritual evolved into a broader set of OCD behaviors: repetitive, time-consuming actions aimed at momentarily easing the anxiety sparked by intrusive thoughts.
For Elena, now 18, those obsessive thoughts often center on a fear of looming disaster or a conviction that “spiritual catastrophe” could follow if she doesn’t perform the rituals correctly.
OCD affects roughly 3 percent of Australians each year, yet the condition remains largely misunderstood. Diagnosis typically takes about nine years on average, explains Lara Farrell, a clinical psychologist who leads Griffith University’s Centre for Mental Health.
There isn’t a single simple explanation for why OCD goes undetected. People with OCD can hide symptoms well, and the disorder often appears alongside other anxiety disorders or depression. Stigma also deters people from seeking a formal evaluation.
Professor Farrell notes that shame or embarrassment around distressing symptoms often holds people back from speaking openly about what they’re experiencing.
Elena’s symptoms began to surface after a traumatic event at age 12—the death of a duckling she was caring for—which complicated how she explained what was happening. Embarrassment and grief contributed to an initial misdiagnosis, and even with a trusted general practitioner, talking about it remained hard.
She recalls how difficult it was to share her full story, even with a psychologist. It wasn’t until she watched an episode of You Can’t Ask That that she recognized her experience in a labeled condition—and felt relief in knowing she wasn’t crazy.
OCD is not just a punchline about cleanliness or fussiness. It’s a serious condition that can be misunderstood or dismissed as merely quirky behavior.
Clinical expert Farrell emphasizes a key distinction: everyday rituals done by choice in pursuit of order aren’t OCD. True OCD disrupts daily life and imposes a heavy burden on both the individual and their family.
At her worst, Elena’s OCD and depression fed into one another. She would stay up late, pacing and tapping on stairs, listening to the house around her while tears streamed down her face—unable to stop the cycle.
What mattered most wasn’t a grand gesture like arranging pens by color; the distress ran deeper. For Elena, these experiences in year seven remain some of the most challenging of her life.
Better detection and understanding across Australia
Professor Farrell argues that improved training could help clinicians spot OCD earlier and more accurately. She advocates normalizing the discussion of symptoms during assessments so that people feel safe to share what they’re experiencing.
Starting March 1, she’ll participate in a nationwide trial offering web-based training for parents who are supporting children with OCD at home, with an emphasis on exposure and response prevention therapy (ERP).
ERP helps people confront feared situations in a controlled, safe setting and has shown positive results for many OCD patients. Yet the belief persists that OCD is untreatable.
Families from across the country often report trying numerous psychologists before receiving effective help, Farrell notes. They frequently believe their child will live with OCD forever.
It’s crucial to spread the message that OCD is treatable. The condition is serious and persistent, but there are therapies that lead to significant recovery.
Elena herself credits ERP with tangible improvements. She now finds herself far less haunted by thoughts of catastrophe tied to minor rituals before bed and feels a sense of relief.
Her message to others living with OCD is simple and hopeful: you’re not alone, and there’s no need to carry embarrassment or shame about your experiences.
Curious about OCD?
The ABC Heywire competition invites regional Australians aged 16–22 to share their perspectives. It’s a platform for younger voices who might not often be heard in broader conversations.
If you’re between 16 and 22 and want to learn more about Heywire, visit the ABC Heywire website.
