This week marks the start of National OCD Awareness Week.

Like most mental disorders, OCD is largely misunderstood. People often use it as an adjective to describe their organization habits or the fact that they always carry hand sanitizer around with them. It’s is often portrayed on TV by quirky characters who like to keep their pencils perfectly symmetrical or clean their houses twice a day. OCD takes many different forms, and no two people with OCD will exhibit the disorder in the exact same way.

For me, OCD takes the form of obsessive thoughts about contamination and order, as well as compulsive rituals that help to keep me sane. I go through periods where I’m scared to eat because putting things into my body feels unclean. Going out to eat at restaurants is a hidden strife, as my experience is usually dictated by the specific ways that I have to handle my silverware or open my straw wrapper.

In my house and dorm room, there are certain objects that are never allowed to touch other objects. I can feel layers of germs on my skin at every given time, and I keep an internal record of every single item I’ve touched throughout the day. I won’t even go into showering rituals, because we’d be here all day. In short, to me, the world looks like varying shades of “safe” to “unsafe,” and I go about my day accordingly.

I was nervous to move into the dorms here at NIU because everything about dorm living seemed like a trigger to my OCD. In addition to dorms being breeding grounds for germs, I also felt like I wouldn’t feel in control of my own space, which is an essential part of my rituals. However, I’ve adjusted surprisingly well. A few panic attacks have come and gone, but I actually really enjoy living in the dorms, and some of the discomforts and anxieties have been outweighed by my lovely roommates and the other experiences I’ve been exposed to.

Over the years, my OCD has gotten easier to manage. Just a few years ago, I suffered from such severe anxiety that I began to develop agoraphobia, and wanted nothing but to isolate myself from everything that I thought could hurt me. However, now I’m able to go about my life happily and with little difficulty. Some days are worse than others, and I certainly have my fair share of bad days, but I’ve discovered that it’s very possible to have OCD and live a happy life, contrary to what my eighth grade self may have thought.

Very few people know that I actually have OCD. I tend to brush all of my noticeable rituals off as germophobia, and I simply don’t talk about the ones that are not as noticeable. But it’s important for people to know that we’re out here. We’re not asking for your help, nor your sympathy, but perhaps just a little bit of understanding about the things that we have to do in order to feel safe. So if you happen to notice one of your friends arranging her straws and silverware in weird ways when you’re out to dinner, don’t poke fun. Just pour ketchup on her plate so that she doesn’t have to touch the bottle if she asks you to.