Hijacked Faith: My Story of Religious OCD and God

01 Scrupulosity, also known as Religious OCD, is a subtype of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in which people experience debilitating obsessions and compulsions about their faith.

02 Jamie's struggles with scrupulosity began in childhood. By high school, she was experiencing intense spiritual anxiety that wouldn’t be diagnosed as OCD for 11 years.

03 Jamie thought her intrusive thoughts were the voice of the Holy Spirit, which validated their contents and gave them control over her sense of morality.

04 At the age of 26, she finally received a proper diagnosis and sought help. While healing, she has been able to hang on to her faith and find new ways to appreciate it.

“God! Please don’t make me go home!” I tearfully prayed for a way to stay longer at the Christian summer camp. I loved it there, little realizing that my brain was forging important connections that would one day morph into full-blown scrupulosity.

Home was chaotic. My older brother had oppositional defiance disorder, and adult protection was inconsistent. Being homeschooled, I had little contact with the outside world.

But when I attended a Christian summer camp at age 12, I realized the addictive beauty of control and certainty.

Our days were scheduled with military precision — roll call, marching to meals, crafts, Bible studies, hikes, and creative workshops. Camp counselors, concerned with shepherding a large crowd of wiggly children, made it fun by having us shout funny rhymes while marching to the mess hall. They told us to zip up our sleeping bags and tuck our shoelaces inside before each morning’s cabin inspection. I made sure my sleeping bag was not only zipped, but smoothed perfectly.

I reveled. Every day, I could expect the same routine. I could be sure of a safe emotional environment and clear expectations. In the evenings when we gathered around a bonfire and heard stories of faith and spiritual devotion, I didn’t hesitate to respond to the first altar call.

Forever, my mind would inextricably link “order” and “faith.” I wanted it. I wanted more of this God who made me feel safe, in control, and certain of the future.

I went home and again entered the fray of chaotic home life, but I was changed forever. I had given my heart to God. I was converted. And I made sure to make my bed so that He didn’t forget it.

They say that scrupulosity has both a biological and an environmental component. I’m no scientist, but I like to think of little zygote-sized me getting the OCD plugin added to my genetic software. The predisposition was probably there all along, waiting for a significant event to flip the switch.

If I would have spent a summer volunteering at a biohazard lab, I might have ended up with obsessions and compulsions about contamination instead.

But faith flipped that switch, and by the time I entered high school, I was already experiencing intense spiritual anxiety that wouldn’t be diagnosed as OCD for 11 more years. I attended a conservative Bible college in the rural South, where I was a model student, careful to observe every point of doctrine and pious living.

I began to experience intrusive thoughts that I understood to be the voice of the Holy Spirit.

It would start as a feeling like something was “off.” The feeling would make me frantic to discover what was wrong, fearful that my soul was in danger. In these moments of soul-scanning, I would get a mental impression urging me to compulsive acts.

Often the compulsion would be benign — needing to walk the long way to class, having to change my pink shirt for a blue one, needing to straighten my bedcover or adjust objects in my room. Because the intrusive thoughts came in the form of a first-person command, I believed it was God testing me, checking to see how “in tune” I was with Him. I believed that if I followed these little impressions, perhaps God would entrust me with greater “revelations.”

But sometimes the voice of religious OCD was more disturbing. Once, while praying for a godly husband, this ever-present voice told me in no indefinite terms that I was destined to marry a certain young man in the Bible college — a particular person I couldn’t imagine loving. I fought back against the intrusive thought, believing it to be the immutable voice of God. I cried bitter, disappointed tears.

(Years later, he is happily married and I am happily married, but not to each other.)

The constant undercurrent of anxiety pushed me to extremes in religious behavior. I constantly felt burned out because I could never say “no” to an opportunity to serve God.

At one point, I was waking up at 3:00am to help take care of my dying grandmother, working and studying all day, fitting in devotional practices and outreach activities, and falling asleep around 10:00pm.

No one in my faith community would have judged me for slowing down. In fact, I’ve often been told that I’m too perfectionistic and need to cut myself a break.

Anytime I tried getting off the ministry treadmill, I’d get that same bad feeling again. The feeling that something is “off” and that I’m headed for doom and disaster. Nothing could cure that feeling except more acts of love and charity for the world at large. I never stopped to wonder why these powerful impressions didn’t reserve a bit of love and charity for me.

I also experienced intense rumination on spiritual themes. Unlike scrupulous people who cyclically doubt their salvation or worry they may have committed the unpardonable sin, my doubts were sophisticated and always new.

I had the opportunity to tell that guy about salvation and I didn’t. How do I know he won’t be lost because of me? If I feel good about successful ministry projects, is that pride? How do I know I’m not serving God from the wrong motive? Jesus said that looking at a person with lust is just as bad as committing adultery. I looked at an attractive guy. How do I know it wasn’t lust?

Being in a Bible college meant that I was surrounded by budding theologians. Every morning in the cafeteria I sought reassurance for my intrusive doubts. But as soon as I “solved” one doubt, a new one popped up, always with the same theme: how can I be absolutely sure…

It was as if I was a little girl at summer camp again, wanting to impose order and structure on the mysterious world of metaphysics and religion.

After graduating with a double major in education and Biblical studies, I married my college love and followed him to his international job call. We landed in Beirut in 2013 and set up our first home together.

While he worked, I got involved in as much ministry as possible, still working from the nervous energy of religious OCD. I taught Bible classes at an Evangelical grade school. I learned to speak Arabic. I got heavily involved in refugee relief projects. I got a master’s degree. I started a PhD.

I went through culture shock. I went through compassion fatigue. I went through several cycles of burnout and recovery. I was strong for as long as I could. But one day I just couldn’t do it anymore, and I plunged into depression.

It was while seeking treatment for MDD that I was finally diagnosed with religious OCD. I was 26 years old. It had taken more than a decade for my symptoms to be understood for what they really were: a mental health disorder hijacking of my faith.

I was told to treat the intrusive thoughts and icky feelings with ambivalence rather than interacting with them. But it proved agonizingly difficult. Everything seemed like such a life-and-death matter. I wasn’t prepared to view the world in shades of gray. I needed black-and-white answers. I needed certainty.

While going through treatment, I felt like a 12-year-old all over again, crying to avoid the chaos of an uncertain place I could not control. How I longed to feed my addiction to certainty. How I dreaded the awful feelings of vulnerability when I chose not to act on my obsessions.

But little by little, I began to learn how to identify the voice of OCD. Little by little, that voice began to lose its power.

With time, I’ve become a pro at managing my scrupulosity symptoms. I wish I could reach into my genetic code and somehow switch off whatever that biological engine for OCD is. The urge to respond to life in obsessive compulsive patterns doesn’t go away, but my learned ability to resist these patterns comes much easier.

Probably what I find most fulfilling about my experience with scrupulosity treatment has been the fact that it has clarified my faith experience rather than crush it. When I began to understand the implications of ERP as used in the treatment of religious OCD, I feared that it would entirely rob me of my faith, leaving me an empty shell of my former self and of all that is important to me. This has not been the case.

Instead, as I read the Bible with new eyes, I discover the truth about health, balance, security, and love. I discover that real “faith” can only exist in the context of uncertainty. Getting treatment for my OCD has only deepened my attachment to God as I recognize that He hasn’t been the one driving me so hard all this time.

When I think back to little 12-year-old me, eyes shining as she snapped to attention and reveled in the security of a controlled environment, I don’t judge her. Certainty and control was what she needed at that time to combat the ups and downs of her environment.

But I’m not that little girl anymore, and the type of home I’ve chosen to build is not chaotic and unpredictable. It’s full of love and security. And that gives me the space to shift my relationship with God into a more mature realm.

One with gray areas and holy mystery. One with “I-don’t-knows.” One with as much mercy for myself as I extend to others.

And if I can reach that kind of experience with God, then all the discomfort of religious OCD that I’ve experienced in the meantime will be well worth it.

Jaimie Eckert blogs about her journey with OCD at her website, jaimieeckert.com. She is completing her PhD in Religion and serves as a scrupulosity coach to support others who struggle with religious OCD. She and her husband live abroad and are still trying to figure out where to call home.

And that was the problem.

She was not balanced which meant at some point something had to give.

In her case it did not drive her from God but I know of some people that it has.

Eventually they learned that this drive to be absolute shining perfection in word and deed was not possible and the end result was that they decided if they could not be perfect they would give up entirely.

Some find their way back to God. Some still have not. Because now that you have messed up it is no use anymore.

Actually, it can be because of faith that one wants to make sure they are walking in obedience…

Oh yes! That I agree with. I just meant that in her case, the fear of not being perfect overwhelmed her until she sought help and came to rest in God’s LOVE (“perfect love casteth out fear) — and to be at peace in the mystery and uncertainty that walking by faith sometimes entails. Which can be uncomfortable, especially for minds seeking concrete certainty/assurance all the time.

"Bless your heart. You may now change your pink shirt to the blue one "

Meaning that your ignorant insolent baseless accusations and calumnies having been exposed for what they are, then in lieu of any possible defense, your recourse is a pitiful ad hominem attempt, or what the RM refers to as a "spitwad." Whose advice is appropriate in this thread as well:

If the other guy is throwing spitwads at you on an “open” thread it probably means he has run out of ammunition. Take it as a backhanded compliment. You won, walk away.

Breathe buddy. I even alluded to the article’s portion that led to my comment

You mean your last post regarding pink shirt to the blue one, which again fails to substantiate your charges(not that you ever tried until this fallacious attempt) that "She was not strongly committed to hear [her] faith. She was living in delusion" "She kept asking for signs to prove that God is real. That is delusional." For as said, rather than not being strongly committed to her faith, she earnestly sought to serve God in line with Scripture (graduating with a double major in education and Biblical studies, marrying her college love and following him to his international job call, teaching Bible classes at an Evangelical grade school, learning to speak Arabic, and being heavily involved in refugee relief projects, plus getting a master’s degree). But consistent with that unselfish commitment, she not only found it hard to say no, but wanted to be sure she was obeying God's specific will in areas such as what to wear. And due to a very sensitive and overly zealous conscience and immaturity, then this went to extremes. Which neither meant she was asking if God was real or not, nor does a compulsion to serve God and sometimes mistaking conscience for the voice of God warrant dismissing her as someone "living in delusion." This is not some mindless chanting devoteee but a holy very committed servant of Christ who was mistaken to a good degree as regards scrupulosity in her commitment and needed wise counselling and better discernment. Would that such was the real problem today rather than the multitudes, the majority of Christians in the West, who think living "as ease in Zion" and not seeking to worship and serve the Lord, and share those gospel with those whose path they pass, and otherwise make a positive difference in the lives of others for time and for eternity constitutes Christian faith. I came short in all this somewhat.

Ignore last post. Forgot a bit of html was in there. Sorry.

Breathe buddy. I even alluded to the article’s portion that led to my comment

For as said, rather than not being strongly committed to her faith, she earnestly sought to serve God in line with Scripture (graduating with a double major in education and Biblical studies, marrying her college love and following him to his international job call, teaching Bible classes at an Evangelical grade school, learning to speak Arabic, and being heavily involved in refugee relief projects, plus getting a master’s degree).

But consistent with that unselfish commitment, she not only found it hard to say no, but wanted to be sure she was obeying God's specific will in areas such as what to wear. And due to a very sensitive and overly zealous conscience and immaturity, then this went to extremes.

Which neither meant she was asking if God was real or not, nor does a compulsion to serve God and sometimes mistaking conscience for the voice of God warrant dismissing her as someone "living in delusion."

This is not some mindless chanting devoteee but a holy very committed servant of Christ who was mistaken to a good degree as regards scrupulosity in her commitment and needed wise counselling and better discernment.

Would that such was the real problem today rather than the multitudes, the majority of Christians in the West, who think living "as ease in Zion" and not seeking to worship and serve the Lord, and share those gospel with those whose path they pass, and otherwise make a positive difference in the lives of others for time and for eternity constitutes Christian faith. I came short in all this somewhat.

In closing I want to say that the danger of not heeding conscience is greater than heeding one that is excessively scrupulous, as if one is born of the Spirit than greater discernment will result, often thru others helping somewhat, whereas dismissing conscience, vs. discerning what is valid conviction or impressions, leads to ruin. And yes, the devil can influence thoughts (certain governments are working to do the same), and as said, works to lead souls into two extremes.

"Scrupulosity can be quite paralyzing though and block someone from their real GOD-given purpose…a purpose usually contingent upon one’s ability to accept God’s grace and mercy."

One can be religious and lost, but for the regenerate who perseveres then such will both serve God and find deliverance, in contrary to making excuses for lack of diligence and unscrupulous behavior. Conscience judges behavior based upon its |"programing," but an over zealous conscience tends to be obsessed details as regard what should be done and what was not.

Thus if one has been taught that self-sacrifice is what is good and selfish lustful self-indulgence is wrong - both of which are true - than the scrupulous person can be driven to extremes of self-sacrifice and denial of anything pleasant, unless a sufficiently clear sign or indication from God is perceived. And thus under the weight of conscience the scrupulous can go to extremes in the former as well as the latter.

And yet God does require and bless self-sacrifice that is out of faith and manifest signs of approval. And some of the scrupulous behavior can be in going overboard in doing what actually is God specific will in a situation. And thus there is a need for objective analysis before God and discernment and balance thereby. Before the believer does speak to a co-worker about his need for repentance and faith which the coworker may attack him for, then he can ask God to work things out conducive for that communication, if that is God's will, and the words to say and heart to say them. Of course, most Christians have just the opposite of a scrupulous zealous conscience, and dismiss any idea that taking small items from their employers (who does not allow it) is wrong, and or that one should try to share the faith with those who cross their path. Then there are those who never had a actual day of salvation with its profound basic transformative changed in heart and life and know not of the Lord's leading.

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