I don't know who to talk to so I'll post here. I'll try to be short. Also, mods, sorry for the language but I just really need to vent. Friendly warning: if you think you might trigger your OCD DON'T READ THIS!
So it's been 7 years since I've had HOCD now (and in the middle I had other obsessions), but I only found out it was OCD a year ago. Though frankly it was better when I didn't know what I had, because after I found out it was OCD and read the articles, went to therapy etc. I lost all hope. Find any article online about HOCD, POCD etc. written by psychologists and you'll read the same crap in all of them: "You have to accept that you'll never know". What the hell? So it's basically a big "yeah, you don't know, you never will, f**k you, deal with it". Done. It's like they don't even try.
Worse than that, they come up with outright lies, like "no one is certain, certainty is impossible". Incorrect. MANY people are VERY certain about their sexuality and who they are. Sure, they might have questioned it, but it was just a moment. Also with #######4 like "Yeah straight people get aroused by gay stuff all the time, also non-pedos can get aroused by children too" - they're not that straightforward, but that's what they say. If you haven't seen it, look for it, you'll find what I'm talking about. And I mean, in what planet do they live in? Where did they get that idea from? Also, if we can't be certain, why do they refer to people as "straight" or "non-pedo" etc.? I thought they weren't sure? It's just this huge contradiction all the time.
And again, with the acceptance crap. "Accept that you might be a pedo" come on. What goes on in their heads? I'm NOT accepting that. EVER. I'm NOT going to live a life where I'm not sure if I'm a freaking pedophile or not and just be ok with it. Which is why I tried suicide over 4 years ago, by overdosing on heroin and coke. I was desperate before I did it and got more desperate after it, so I called an ambulance and you know the rest. Over 2 years ago I tried suicide again but this time, while walking on the street impatiently waiting to die, someone noticed the way I was was suspicious and called the police, and my life was saved again. Honestly I'm angry that it was. I really wish I had died that day. Because I do feel aroused by children, by my brothers, by my sister, by my thoughts, even by my own reflection in the mirror and I won't "accept the uncertainty" because no one deserves to have to do that. I keep thinking I might do it again, but I don't know.
I mean, sure the arousal might "not be real" but well, it probably is. In the end, I think psychology is a pseudo-science and it has failed me, and now I'm done.
Anyway. This was my story, if you stayed with me during it, thank you, I'm happy you listened.