“I’m so OCD about my closet.”
“She’s totally OCD about her emails.”

You’ve probably heard comments like these. They’re usually tossed out casually, almost as a joke, but for those who live with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, these phrases sting. They reduce a serious and painful condition into a quirky personality trait. And worse, they feed into
the shame and silence that already surround OCD.

For me, OCD started at nine years old with a throat-clicking tic. Over the years, the symptoms expanded: compulsions, rituals, and intrusive thoughts that felt impossible to escape. From the outside, I looked like I was functioning—going to school, working hard, raising a family. Inside,
I was battling my own mind every single day.

The harder I tried to stop the tics, the more intense the compulsions became. I tried with every ounce of my being, but they only grew worse. Resisting the urges felt natural, but it was completely counterproductive. And when I finally gave in after fighting so hard, I felt even worse—like a complete failure. I was out of control, and it seemed there was no hope in sight.

That’s the reality of OCD. It isn’t about being tidy or liking things “just so.” It’s a relentless cycle:

An intrusive obsession barges in.
A compulsion follows, trying to relieve the anxiety.
There’s a brief sense of relief — but it never lasts.
Then comes regret and shame.
Round and round it goes.

And the cycle feeds on itself. The relief you feel after performing a compulsion is like a drop of water in the desert—small, fleeting, and never enough. Yet your brain learns to crave that momentary calm. The next time the obsession shows up, the urge to perform the compulsion
feels even stronger. What starts as one loop quickly becomes dozens, then hundreds, every single day. It can hijack hours of your life without you realizing it, and leave you mentally and emotionally drained.

That’s why OCD isn’t just a “quirk.” You cannot simply snap out of it or fix it with willpower. It’s a cycle that convinces you that relief only comes from obeying it, while in reality, every time you give in, the cycle tightens its grip.

But here’s what changed everything for me: learning that OCD is treatable. It may not be easy, and it may not be instant, but progress is possible—real, meaningful progress. I found a strategy that helped me interrupt the cycle and reclaim my life, even after six decades of struggle.

That’s why I wrote OCD and the New ULR Method™. It’s not about being neat. It’s about finding freedom.

If you or someone you love is struggling with OCD, know that you are not alone. Visit www.AwakenMyPotential.com to learn more about the ULR Method™ and find resources that may help you take the first step toward relief.

This book is not a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Results may vary.