Sports coaches will often use a term that’s become a bit cliché- “We need to establish our identity.” It’s a pretty simple concept, which roughly means that a team should play to it’s own strengths and play in a manner that characterizes that specific team’s personality.

Another similar concept that’s often mentioned is to “create a culture”. Teams want to establish their identity, play to their strengths, and foster optimism, positivity, togetherness, and other traits that make up a healthy group of players.

 

 

It’s with this concept that I strive to implement for myself on a daily basis. I focus on creating a culture that allows me to be the best version of myself as possible, on each given day. I think to myself, “what do I want to achieve?, how do I want to achieve it?, and what challenges are expected, and how can I navigate my way through them?”

Living with a mental health condition is usually extremely difficult. Everyone has challenges in life, though it seems people with a mental health condition have it extra hard. Maybe I’m biased. Although it truly seems (which I can confirm) that a mental health condition can cause an extra set of challenges (and sometimes an enormously extra set).

That’s why I feel like creating a culture is so important, especially for people going through something extremely difficult. It’s easy to get swept up in a tornado of challenges in life. It’s easy to lose focus on the positives at times, especially when we cannot always see the light at the end of the tunnel.

By creating a culture, we can train our brains to think and act in a positive way. If I tell myself that no matter what challenges or difficulties arise during the day, I will overcome them- then I can be better prepared to react positively to a negative result.

I strive for my own culture where I stay focused and at ease mentally (difficult for someone with anxiety), where I can stay true to myself and what I stand for when problems arise, and where I don’t allow things out of my control to change my actions.

By creating a culture, I give myself a better opportunity to succeed. And within that culture, I trust and believe in myself to take full advantage of that opportunity.

Are we doing enough as a society to promote discussion and awareness of mental health? The answer in short is no.

Everyone has mental health, whether you are mentally healthy or not. The truth is, mental health conditions and struggles with mental health are unfortunately quite common. The National Alliance on Mental Illness states that 1 in every 5 adults in America experience a mental illness, and 1 in every 25 live with a serious mental health condition.

These numbers are staggering. I sometimes think to myself, as someone living with ocd, where are all these people? If I’m at a sports game and there are 20,000 others in attendance, I could guess there are 2,000-3,000 others who struggle with a mental health condition. It’s only a guess, because it’s possible that some wouldn’t make it to the game in the first place. I’ve missed sports games many times because I wasn’t feeling well enough mentally.

The words “mental health” alone carry a stigma. As a society, this is an extremely serious issue. I would argue, and I fully believe I am right, that it’s more significant than gun control, immigration, or even other very prominent societal issues in America these days. Not to belittle those issues, which are serious, but the proportion of media coverage and awareness of those issues far surpass the coverage and awareness of mental health.

Yes, it is changing. Mental health is spoken about more than ever, and finally people who were against the idea of acknowledging mental health struggles are doing so. But, like any progress, there is still a long way to go.

To destroy mental health stigma is not easy. As a society we are cultured not to speak about “these things”. For all the progress made, there are still too many lives being affected negatively. And to fix this stigma, it’s going to take a full shift in attitude, not only from people who advocate for mental health awareness, but more importantly society as a whole.

It’s sensible for us who are affected to speak up about our struggle. We are biased. We’ve been the ones affected and our friends and families as well. It means a lot to us. But it’s going to take those who aren’t affected to join the movement. May is mental health awareness month. To me, every month should be mental health awareness month, but the point is, it’s always a good time to promote discussion and awareness.

So, if you haven’t already, please join the movement. This is a societal issue, and we’re going to need society as a whole to walk along on this journey. Share a post about mental health on social media. Reach out to a friend who you think may be struggling. Read an article about mental health. Whatever you do, you will be furthering the movement in the right direction.

It’s on each and every one of us to help each other when we face challenges, no matter what challenges we face in life. It’s on us to publicly speak about mental health. So please, join the movement.

 

I’ve been a huge sports fan for as long as I can remember. I was introduced to sports and played a variety of them, probably since I was 2 or 3 years old. Not much in my life goes back that far, and not many things have offered as much as sports has. The passion, excitement, and unity of sports have always been there throughout my life.

I always find it very interesting and courageous when professional athletes open up about their mental health battles during their careers. If you’re not familiar, professional sports includes tremendous pressure on athletes- after all, they’re paid hundreds of thousands, if not millions of dollars based on their performances. Not to mention they have hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people watching them and scrutinizing them. It’s not easy to be an athlete.

I’m very appreciative and thankful of athletes speaking up. They are prominent, public figures in the sports world, and are often looked up to as role models for their skill, hard work, and success. Whether they should be or not isn’t the point. The truth is, their actions have a significant impact on many people.

Within the past year, I read about a few athletes whose stories stuck with me. Anthony Knockaert, a soccer player for Brighton in the English Premier League (my favorite European team), spoke about his battle with depression after his divorce and the death of his father. The reaction to his announcement was very positive- his teammates and coaches backed him, along with many fans on social media. His message was that this stuff is real, and there is a great benefit to seeking help. If his performances from last year to this year are anything to go by (I would know- I watch Brighton week after week), he has definitely been helped with therapy and support.

Robin Lehner, ice hockey goalie for the New York Islanders, spoke of his issues with substance abuse and bipolar disorder. The Athletic ran an article detailing his journey, which included a particular game in which he was struggling mentally. He was able to find help, and it doesn’t seem a coincidence to me that he has been one of the best goalies in the NHL this season. He is having a career year, I suppose in more ways than one.

And, this past summer ESPN ran a series of articles on mental health and the NBA. Turns out, former Boston Celtics basketball player Shane Larkin struggled with severe OCD, including during his college days. I was particularly interested because he suffered from contamination OCD which was a problem for me as well.

When athletes speak up about mental health issues, it’s not only courageous, but also impactful. These are people who young adults and children look up to, and if they can struggle and manage through a mental health issue while playing sports, it gives hope and belief to others to manage as well. There are many eyes on them, and their high profile leaves them nowhere to hide. Although, the more I think about it, chances are they don’t need anywhere to hide.

 

 

Ups and downs are basically guaranteed in many, if not all aspects of life. But when it comes to battling a mental health condition, these ups and downs can quite regularly be extreme, and are a major test of ultimate strength.

When people mention “to anyone struggling right now, I’m with you- it gets better”, or similarly “you have the strength to pull through”, they are certainly offering support (unfortunately that’s all it is during tough times). I’m not saying that’s a bad thing to say. I’ve offered that at times, as that’s really all I could do. You unfortunately cannot get rid of these problems overnight.

When we offer this support, we’re referring to the downs. And I speak for myself, but likely many others as well. The days when I’m motionless in bed, eyes closed, weathering the storm as best I could.

Sure, there are ups as well- the times when I am truly happy. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that most of those times are when I’m with other people. I have ocd of course, so me alone with my thoughts during a tough time is not a recipe for success.

The strategy of weathering the storm is a solid one if done properly. You will not overcome obsessive or intrusive thoughts in a few hours. You will not fall asleep with depression, and wake up like it was never there. So for me, closing the shutters and storm windows and hunkering down on the difficult days doesn’t seem a bad strategy. Getting through that period is the number one priority, and the better you can do that, the less damage the storm will cause.

Yet, the storm does take its toll, and you’re left to pick up the pieces. Not to disrespect anyone who lost physical property in a storm, but I feel a good analogy is the image of me returning to my home, sifting through the ruins, trying to find anything of value or something I can move forward with. I’ve had enough experience to say this is only different in a physical way, rather than mental. But it’s similar enough.

The ups and downs are frustrating, exhausting, and at times can damage me or you. The better we can prepare ourselves for inevitable storms will determine how much damage the storm causes. The ups and downs will occur, and at times will be quite extreme. Though if we can remind ourselves they are only ups and downs, it may not be as difficult to weather the storm.

 

 

 

 

I have reached a new border in my journey battling ocd.

I suffered in silence for years. I cannot even count the days and months that went by, ever so slowly, while being extremely isolated. These were my young adult years, a time typically for socializing, developing character, learning about life, and so on. I’m not searching for sympathy. But I took a detour.

Considered an anxiety disorder (however, I believe this has been debated?), ocd is a lot more than its definition. Anxiety, depression, isolation, physical and mental exhaustion- the list of negative aspects can unfortunately go on and on. For me, isolation is up there with the worst of them. It might be the worst aspect of living with this disorder.

I’m still having a hard time with isolation. I had “disappeared for a while”, if you’d ask people who knew me from my childhood and early young adulthood. I feel bad about this, both for myself and for those who didn’t see me vanish into thin air. I miss some of these people, and I would love if they knew and understood.

I’m still on the fence about publicly telling people what I’ve dealt with. Yes, I write this blog as a way of doing that, but not everyone will see this or be told it exists. I can manage with that, although a significant part of me would like to just explain where I was. I am on the fence because, is it necessary to tell everyone and make it public, or should I write this blog and tell people if they ask? It’s a bit hard to explain just how I feel honestly.

Thankfully, I’ve received great help to battle this mental health condition. Along with my own willpower and strength, I have overcome a lot. I feel like I can finally put this all into perspective. I can finally go forward with a plan I now have, finish my college degree, search for a job, and simply live the life I want to.

Maybe it’s a form of closure. Maybe with all the pain and suffering that ocd, its anxiety, and its depressive aspects presented me with, I finally want to just walk free (for me, ocd made me depressed, which is different than depression in general). I want to be released from these chains that I’ve been tied down in. Is this a good way to feel? I don’t know the answer myself. I just feel like this old chapter is over and I want to write a new one.

In writing this new chapter, I simply want to come out from hiding. From hiding under my bed cover on my darkest days, hiding from people who knew me, and hiding from my own aspirations. I want to be happy. I want to finally be free.

 

 

I’ve been on quite the journey in my battle with ocd. I’ve spoken to many intelligent people who treat the disorder, and I’ve read a nice amount about it as well. I still am learning more, and I hope to make an impact in the field myself, either as a mental health professional or an advocate.

I’ve learned a lot so far. I know I’m much better off with the knowledge I now have, which is why I’m striving to learn more. One of the best methods of treatment and self-care, in my opinion, is learning what ocd constitutes, because it is much, much more than simply obsessions and compulsions. It can affect every aspect of one’s life.

After hearing what living with ocd means to so many people, I’m kind of surprised about something. Of those who live with this disorder, many have spoken about how they are extremely self-critical, hard on themselves, and while they are usually extremely kind people, they’re not kind to themselves (oh the hypocrisy sometimes, myself included).

I’ve struggled with this for as long as I remember battling ocd. I struggle with perfectionism a little bit, but not enough for me to say I particularly struggle with it. It’s more like, I try to strive for a high level with things, and usually am not fully satisfied. This is common for many people I assume, whether they struggle with mental health or not.

But there’s more- bear with me because I have a hard time explaining this myself. My attitude towards other people is non-judgmental, accepting, forgiving, and open-minded (or at least I try). My attitude towards my internal self is judgmental, self-deprecating, and sometimes unforgiving. Why?

This is quite common with ocd. I’m not entirely sure why it is, although I’ve heard the same from many people. And, personally, I dislike my own attitude quite a bit (who would’ve guessed?). I dislike it enough that I’m actually planning on changing these thoughts. In a similar way to “externalizing” many aspects of ocd, I’m going to step outside my thoughts and treat myself fairly.

I try to be very kind to other people- sometimes, I probably try too hard. And I’ve learned from experience that’s not always good. Although I don’t try hard enough to be kind to myself. And that needs to change.

 

Personally, I find hard times difficult not because of what I’m going through in the current moment, rather how difficult it is to respond and turn the negative momentum around into positive.

I think back to two years ago. In the summer of 2016, I was quite frankly my own worst enemy. I can allow myself some forgiveness, because struggling with ocd, or any other mental health condition, is extremely difficult. But, in staying true to myself, I was not able to respond properly to negative results in my life. I would not gather the mental energy to leave my house much, and of course, I was not very productive.

I suppose experience is the best teacher. By the summer of 2017, I was probably halfway to where I needed to be, regarding responding to difficulties in my life. I would go out more, and enjoy my interests and hobbies more, although I was still lacking something.

Looking back on this past summer, I was much, much closer to my goal of responding properly to difficulties. Now, as I look back to several months ago, of course there are mistakes I made, and behaviors I would certainly grab back if I could. But that’s life- you live and you learn!

One of the best pieces of advice I ever read was in Brain Lock by Jeffrey M. Schwartz. If you haven’t read it, I strongly recommend doing so. My biggest takeaway is this: It is okay if we engage in a behavior that is a “mistake”. If we allow ourselves a slip up, call it out as such, and tell ourselves that next time we’ll behave in a healthier way, we are on our road to improvement.

In the past, I’ve let things get the best of me. And it happened very, very often. Only a few weeks ago, I struggled with a depressive mood on and off for about a week and a half. When looking for an answer to how I can turn this around and improve my mood, I thought back to this piece of advice.

I am not perfect, nor will I ever be. That’s not breaking news- I’m human after all. I should not expect myself to be perfect. If I slip up and become upset or lose my temper at something, big or small, it’s okay. I should not get down because of that. If I tell myself, “Okay, you’ve lost yourself buddy. You’re letting things control you, and you’re stronger than this. You’ve made a mistake, acknowledge it, and now, act in a healthier way going forward”- I’ve improved myself.

And, if I continue to react in this way more and more often, over time, it will become natural. That is part of the beauty of the human brain! We can reshape our worse behaviors into better ones. The benefits are immense, and it is one of the most positive, influential ways I’ve come to react to negative thoughts and results in my life.

“Every disadvantage has its advantage.”

–  Johan Cruyff

Logically, it would seem that if something good exists, there must also be something bad which exists, and vice versa. How can good exist without the co-existence of bad- it just doesn’t seem to fit?

While there’s much about ocd which is bad, and bad is a severe understatement, I strongly believe that there’s a good side to having ocd. This may seem preposterous because ocd is a debilitating, destructive disorder that can overwhelm, and at times consume, many who live with it.

I speak from experience. I was once consumed. I’ve experienced ocd full on. Please don’t think for a second that I haven’t experienced “as bad” ocd as you, or someone you know. I’ve pretty much dealt with it all. Pretty much.

Though there’s something good about having ocd. And I know I’m not the only one who believes this, because I’ve heard others who suffer from ocd say the same thing. That they wouldn’t want to live without it now that they have it, and that they think there’s something beneficial that it offers.

Some of the strongest, most thoughtful, and kindest people I know suffer from this disorder. There’s just something about persevering and staying resilient- it changes your attitude and perception. And I’ve even heard that therapists who treat ocd believe their patients to be so kind, thoughtful, and caring, that therapy is enjoyable.

I believe ocd is partially a byproduct of my thoughts and beliefs about the world and my place in it. If that seems vague, that’s because it’s a long story. Since the existence of ocd has a biological and chemical proof, it seems likely those with ocd will think differently, both in their thought processes and resulting thoughts.

That would explain our different behaviors. What is rational to most is not rational to us with ocd. Rationally, washing my hands thoroughly for two minutes would clean them of any dirt or germs. With ocd, washing them for more than five minutes seems rational, though it truly isn’t. I’m not going any further into my past washing compulsions for the sake of this post.

Please know, I’m not saying life with ocd is a breeze, because it’s the polar opposite most of the time. I struggle day in and day out. I’m gradually improving, thankfully, but it’s still a significant daily struggle.

Living with ocd has changed my attitude and perception toward life. Yes, it has hurt me in so many ways, and I can never return to the past and change that. Just the acceptance of the hurt is still something I struggle with. It’s another struggle in itself.

Although there is much good that I have gained. I think I have a deeper understanding of life. I think I have more sympathy for others after struggling so much. And, while there’s even more, I’ve learned how to never give in and never give up. I truly don’t want to talk myself up, but these are my honest thoughts.

I respect anyone who believes living with ocd is too difficult and harmful to have any good involved. I can totally understand that. Though personally, it doesn’t seem likely that bad can exist without good.

 

 

 

When I first started writing lyrics to songs, back in January, I researched online about what it takes to be a songwriter.

I have this dream- a dream in every sense of the word, let me tell you- that I’ll one day be on stage, rocking out in a band, performing my own original music. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere, right?

After some research, I stumbled upon advice along the lines of “become a writer, if, and only if, you must do it.” Like, the words must be bursting out of you. I was committed to writing songs before reading that, only because I already felt that exact way. It was something that I just had to do.

So I took the chance on myself. I’ve started writing songs, mainly lyrics, and hope to get good at it someday. Someday.

Then in July, I took another chance on myself. I like taking chances.

Since I struggle with obsessive compulsive disorder, I made the trip to the International OCD Foundation’s annual conference in D.C. A three day conference, full of interesting talks, panels, and support groups about life with ocd (I wouldn’t dare write those three letters in capitals- they don’t deserve that). A truly life-changing experience, and truly not in a cliché sense of the phrase.

But after returning home, I realized something. The conference was amazing, sure. Everyone I met seemed to really enjoy it, and I still keep in contact with friends I made there. Yet, I was missing something.

Why had I not attended the conference the year before? Or even two years before? Why did I finally take a chance on myself and check it out? Why was I finally reading books about ocd, after struggling with it for years? The biggest question: Why was I finally using the terms ocd, mental health, and, my favorite, “exposures”?

One word: STIGMA. The stigma of mental health was a hundred-foot brick wall I could not see past. I didn’t want to fully acknowledge I had ocd or any other mental health “condition”. And, technically I have more than one. So, add another term to my list above- comorbidity.

I knew I’ve had ocd, and obsessive compulsive personality disorder as well (a similar, yet different, mental health “condition”), for a long time. For years, I acknowledged in my head that, yes, I am clearly affected by these “disorders”. I’m sorry, I just really hate the word disorder. I suppose I’m still removing the last remaining bricks of the hundred-foot brick wall of stigma.

To write these words is not easy. Actually, not easy in the long term. It’s quite easy for these words to flow, because these thoughts have been building in my head for a while. The stigma of mental health doesn’t disappear overnight. At least not for me.

I’m writing this because I feel like I must. These are thoughts I must share. I personally do not care much about telling my own story. Honestly, I am still affected and am not fully past the struggle I live with. Although, I’m doing much better. I sometimes imagine how much better off I’d be currently, if I had acknowledged ocd earlier. But then I stop myself because it’s useless. Going back in the past? Hahaha! Show me a person with ocd that never had those thoughts, if you could find one.

I’m starting this blog, The Resilience (what else was I supposed to name it?), with one primary goal in mind- to contribute to ending the stigma of mental health. To end the stigma for those who live a mental health struggle, for their families, for their friends, and well, for the world. Mental health exists in all locations on Earth. I don’t know this as a fact, although I believe it’s an unfortunate, yet true assumption.

My name is Alan Esses, I’m 26, and I struggle with mental health. I have ocd and ocpd. I am not ashamed. This is the way I was born. There is scientific evidence, biologically and chemically, that people with ocd have “different” brains. I’m not a scientist, but I read this in Brain Lock- one of the books of my summer ocd book binge.

There you have it. My name’s behind my words. It still makes me uncomfortable, I must admit. But, my name’s still behind my words. There’s no going back, only a way forward. If people who know me want to think, “Hey, this guy’s crazy! He has mental health problems, and he talks openly about it! He should be ashamed of himself…” Well, what more can I say?

I’ve met people who’ve “come out” about their mental health struggles, and usually they’ve had a positive experience doing so. I tip my hat to those who’ve done so. It’s not easy, it can seem daunting, and once it’s out, it’s out. I truly, deeply respect those people. I hope I have the same experience.

I suppose I can say this is another chance taken by myself. Maybe I’m received well, maybe not, and maybe nobody will even care much.

Still, it was something I must do. I still have a way to go in ridding myself completely of my own stigma, but in that regard, I’ve come a long way.

Society has come a long way in breaking down mental health stigma, thankfully, though a significant portion remains. And it is up to us to break it down further.

It is something we must do.