Destigmatizing Mental Illness In A Digital Age

"Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, but stigma and bias shame us all." ― Bill Clinton

I remember it like it was yesterday. The stomach bug had been running through my house rapidly, and I was determined not to get it. I was sitting in my childhood bedroom, watching Hannah Montana, when an idea crept into my mind, "If I tap the doorknob four times, maybe I won't get the stomach bug?" Little did I know that my innocent ten-year-old idea would divert into a lifelong battle with obsessive compulsive disorder. 

Fast forward to adulthood. I moved to Los Angeles to concentrate on my career. This move was one of a few factors that caused my most significant OCD flare-up. It began with the usual repetition and "Just Right" OCD that I can never seem to shake. Then, I dealt with terrible Harm OCD. 

My intrusive thoughts made me so afraid of everything that I would stay in my Downtown Los Angeles apartment all day, which was a literal catastrophe. At a glance, it looked like I was a hoarder. I couldn't put anything away because no place felt “just right”. I couldn't toss out any food because I was scared of the germs in the rubbish chute. I couldn't clean because I believed the chemicals in bleach and household cleaners would "destroy" my brain and make me go crazy.

Over time, it got worse. I stopped going to church, thinking God didn't want me there because of my intrusive thoughts. I went sober for two years and couldn't even sip alcohol, feeling I would "blackout" immediately and accidentally harm someone, or say something to shatter my career. I stopped eating because I thought the GMOs/chemicals in our food would drive me "crazy." I also would avoid certain foods because of their names — for example, chocolate "blackout" cake from Whole Foods. Consequently, I was clinically diagnosed with anorexia.

I stopped watching television and listening to music because I was scared it would trigger a new obsession. It got to the point where I couldn't blink, walk, or look at something without performing compulsions. At nineteen, I became suicidal over my lifelong battle with OCD. This led me to a three-month stay at an OCD Intensive Treatment Program, which is why I am alive. 

I have always waited for people to understand the severity and gravity of OCD. I've heard the most unmannered things expressed about my disorder to my face, and worse, behind my back.  I realized that instead of getting angry that people don't understand, I could use the power of social media to pull back the curtains on OCD. 

Destigmatizing starts with me. 

This past year, I started a series online called "OCD Queen” where I share my day-to-day obsessions and compulsions, and how they affect all facets of my life. Nothing is off limits, from my spending habits to shower rituals to repetition. 

I never realized the impact my series could have — it's received nearly seven million views this month and over 300,000 likes. I was prepared for harsh and ignorant comments, but something much more beautiful happened: I found a community of OCD sufferers and people who genuinely desired to understand, and even help. 

Gen-Z has taken the destigmatization of mental health into their own hands. On platforms like TikTok, kids are sharing their intrusive thoughts, opening up about their depressive episodes and starting meaningful conversations around mental health. Hashtags like OCD have over 1.6 billion views on the platform and are taken over by young people sharing their stories — myself included. 

So, what are you waiting for? Change and evolution are at your fingertips.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kalista Dwyer is a 23-year-old content creator who has accumulated over 70 million views and 500,000 followers online—her content focuses on navigating her 20's while also shedding light on her mental health struggles. @kalistadwyer