Realizing I was mentally ill was a fucking relief. I grew up in a very religious household, and when I was about 10, I started getting what I now recognize as intrusive thoughts that I would sell my soul to the devil. I was too ashamed to tell anyone, but I developed all these nonsense rituals to keep myself from going to hell or becoming possessed--like scratching a cross onto my skin or eating plants... really weird stuff. I couldn't sleep, I was constantly muttering to myself, I lived in constant fear.

After a few years of this, I told my mom what was going on. She thought I was "under attack" from the devil, but she also said that her sister had ocd, and that maybe some of the coping mechanisms would help me control my thoughts. So, I looked up the term and read some articles about it... I almost cried. Everything matched exactly what I was going through. I had always known that something was wrong, but realizing that it was a mental condition that wasn't my fault was such a relief.

I've dealt with other mental health issues since then, but I just feel lucky to have realized early on that my brain has some glitches. That doesn't make the problems go away, but it does help me to recognize them, and to take action when they start interfering with my life.