My Brother was sectioned multiple times. He too had severe contamination OCD, (i also have it myself although much more mildly as does my teenage DD) agoraphobia, psychosis, paranoid delusions, extreme anxiety, depression, complete denial and unawareness of even being ill. He had other obsessive behaviours and had to be in control of every little thing and everyone. He couldn’t handle little changes in his routine or environment. He had unusual behaviour changes and social anxiety difficulties.
He was initially refusing help from Dr’s and family, and he wouldn’t let us us visit him there in the early days.
He seen us as the enemy through his paranoia and he seen certain people in our family as “contaminated”, so he wouldn’t allow them visits either or receive gifts/care packages for that reason. My Dad was one of the unlucky ones who was viewed as both the enemy and contaminated, and cut contact with him to protect himself. As he wouldn’t let any family be involved in his care, which was his right as an adult, we were kept in the dark about how he was doing, what his treatment was, what was the goal and if or when he would get out. So we arranged via staff to help him get an independent advocate (as a pp said). So we could breathe a little better knowing someone else had his back and putting his rights and needs at the forefront.
He eventually got better. After many months of Dr and staff intervention and perseverance, they got him in a good routine that really helped him, and most importantly he was finally put on medication, he was initially refusing any, which delayed his recovery and added to his time in there. He was convinced having seen the movie one flew over the coo coo’s nest - that the staff were wanting to drug him, give him electric shock therapy and dope him to the eyeballs and leave him like an easy to control zombie, his words. He believed they were slipping drugs into his food.
He had weekly regular assessments and discussed his needs and a care plan, we seen a huge difference in him being better in all aspects. He started allowing us contact again. Sadly he didn’t cope long term in supported living when he was out, and his self care slipped and he stopped his medication and couldn’t look after his daily living needs, feed himself or pay his bills etc.
He stopped using even clean dry towels, even if they were clean out the washing machine and dried on a freshly cleaned clothes dryer, he stopped wearing clothes too as he didn’t feel the washing machine got his things clean enough, and maybe with a washing machine having build up of grimy parts or the thought of all the germy contaminated things he put in there, his fear escalated. I think he stopped wearing clothes partly due to fear of the washing machine having germs, there was also a fear of him touching his clothes with his hands to put them on, and the surfaces they would have been sitting on in drawers or wardrobe storage. He was sleeping with no bedding duvet or pillows anymore and slept only on a flat sheet on his mattress. He boil washed that and because he needed it to sleep on his mattress, it must have still caused him great distress to have to use it, as it was just as contaminated as the clothes, towels and surfaces etc.
He was over washing and scrubbing his hands and body that his skin was raw and broken, he was scolding himself in hot baths for hours, toileting problems and like your son overuse of toilet roll to wipe himself after toileting, and for touch surfaces with instead of his hands. He bathed again after every toilet trip.
His lack of drying himself with even clean towels led to him getting skin fungal infections, and he spent too long in water followed by not drying off properly, so literally had really severe trench foot in both feet and hands when he was next section again.
He became too scared to eat, and at first washing down every item of shopping, he wouldn’t even bring the shopping bags in the house, he would leave them outside in the garden and bring them in on bits to wash individually before putting away. He wouldn’t sit down or touch anything when visiting our family home, he soon didn’t visit anyone ever as fears worsened and he became a hermit and agoraphobic, not allowing any of us in to visit him.
He wouldn’t eat anything properly cooked and nutritious, he seen dishes, surfaces, certain foods as contaminated or highly likely to be contaminated. When he was still eating food, he would eat things that were wrapped in the packaging, ie eating crisps directly from the bag to his mouth with no hands, he live off of pot noodles, crisps and would made himself things like sandwiches in stages for example… he would first wash his hands excessively, he pulled the bread out, left it on the counter and went to wash his hands again, then opened the fridge door to get filling, went to wash his hands again, opened the lid on the butter, went to wash his hands again, he got a knife and spread some on the bread, went to wash hands, pulled out the cheese or cold cooked meat slices packet, go wash again, open the packet, wash hands again, pull food slices and put on bread, wash again, then put last bit of bread on, wash, then close fridge door, wash, then eat.
He eventually stopped eating didn’t trust any food sources regardless of packaging, was weak and skeletal and his little frame ever shrinking. It was exhausting watching him try to get through life, let alone actually being him. 💔
So as much as it hurt to see him go into a place like that, he desperately needed it, I don’t believe he would have survived otherwise. He eventually got well enough to happily go out to family homes again and got be an uncle to his young nieces and nephews. Regained weight, and could use clothes, towels and bedding etc again.
You are doing the best thing in an impossible situation. I love what a pp said about renaming her guilt as love ❤️ and another about if it was a physical illness you wouldn’t feel guilty letting him get admitted to a hospital ward. all so true.
My brother has a neurological disease affecting his brain and mental health, if that wasn’t the case, i believe he could have stayed better after the first or second attempts to help him, so your son has hope. You sound like a wonderful loving parent, he’s lucky to have you. I wish him all the help available and a strong recovery. You will both feel better for it in the long term as you know it can’t go on like this. 💐