Content warning: descriptions and mentions of violent and sexual thoughts and mentions of self-harm.
A film adaptation of John Green’s 2017 novel, and my favorite book, “Turtles All the Way Down,” is set to release later in 2024.
Having a full-length feature film exploring the complexities of adolescence and mental health is encouraging, and I hope it prompts further accurate representation. However, we should not see the film adaptation of “Turtles All the Way Down” as simply a victory, but as a good start to a long-winding road to representing mental illness in all its forms.
The YA novel “Turtles All the Way Down,” centers on Aza, a 16-year-old girl who becomes embroiled in a mystery involving a missing billionaire. She enlists her best friend Daisy and the billionaire’s son to help her unravel the mystery. As Aza pieces together the mystery, she is also locked in a silent battle with her mind.
Aza has Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), which Green also suffers from. The National Institute of Mental Health defines OCD as, “a long-lasting disorder in which a person experiences uncontrollable and recurring thoughts (obsessions), engages in repetitive behaviors (compulsions) or both.” Aza spends the book suffering from intense thought spirals, specifically focused on her intense fear of contamination. Her fear of getting a number of diseases from the germs around her results in her engaging in compulsions that overwhelm her, such as her overuse of hand sanitizer and compulsive hand washing.
We do not just see Aza engaging in strange-looking compulsions, but we see the storm in her head that makes her believe that compulsions are the only thing that can calm her mind. Making this book a movie gives it the potential to go against the decades of misrepresentation of OCD caused by TV and cinema. OCD is one of the most misconstrued mental illnesses, as shows like “Monk” and “Glee” portray OCD as not only an illness rooted in cleanliness and neatness, but also as a joke.
When an audience is not provided with an understanding of what prompts compulsions such as manically organizing all their books, or sanitizing everything around them, the illness is easy to dismiss. However, with a better understanding of what happens inside our minds — the obsessions — that prompt our compulsions, the stigma may be lessened. I hope that the film adaptation of “Turtles All the Way Down” takes the time to use mediums which will properly show the turmoil inside Aza’s head.
Most compulsions shown on the big screen focus on OCD centered around order and/or cleanliness, and the media often fails to highlight the obsessions behind the compulsions. But OCD takes many more forms than the narrow representation we’ve been given.
For example, many people with OCD experience what is referred to as “taboo obsessions,” and these obsessions aren’t often recognized in our world, according to NOCD. Taboo obsessions — commonly centered around violent ideas or disturbing sexual thoughts — are when a disturbing subject matter that society considers taboo becomes stuck in a person’s head. Wracked with guilt, people usually engage in compulsions such as rumination, seeking validation that they’re not a bad person from a loved one or searching online resources.
These thoughts don’t bring us joy, and we don’t choose to think about them. We are as terrified of the thoughts as any person would be, which is a distinction not all people realize.
I have a vague memory of sitting in class as a ten-year-old, feeling overwhelmed by the unwanted thoughts filling my brain. As a young girl at a Catholic school, I was convinced that I was sinning by inadvertently thinking about sexual thoughts about the people around me. I even confessed thinking “impure thoughts” when I would go to confession.
In middle school, unwanted thoughts about hating God and worshiping Satan replayed in my brain, and no matter how many times I prayed the act of contrition and did the sign of the cross, the thoughts wouldn’t go away. For the summer going into my sophomore year of high school, I was plagued by self-harm obsessions. These thoughts made me feel miserable and are what resulted in my OCD diagnosis.
Nearly seven years after my diagnosis, I have grown, but this doesn’t mean I am all better. In this past year, I have felt guilty about things I thought briefly, decisions I made months or years ago and at obsessive thoughts that refuse to leave my mind easily. At the end of the day, no matter how alone my obsessions make me feel, I’m not the only one feeling burdened with guilt over things I can’t control. The failure of the media to show the public that these forms of OCD exist only adds to the stigma we face and makes us feel alone and ashamed.
If our society begins to produce more thoughtful and accurate depictions of OCD that go beyond describing fears of contamination and disorderliness, perhaps young people like me could see themselves on screen. Perhaps that representation will urge them to seek help and remind them that they are not alone in their suffering.
Recent projects have shown that thoughtful representation is possible. In 2019, Channel 4 released the TV show “Pure,” which focused on a woman in her 20s trying to navigate adulthood while dealing with disturbing sexually intrusive thoughts. This show, which sadly only lasted a season, showed it is possible to portray the many forms OCD can take. Though some of its forms are terrifying, this representation can increase understanding and help people who suffer from it feel acknowledged.
I will always be grateful to John Green for providing me with one of the first books that made me feel truly seen in the pages. I plan on seeing “Turtles All the Way Down” (2024), and I hope that it portrays OCD in a way that resonates with the people who live with it. I also hope that we don’t stop here. Representation doesn’t have a destination; we can always continue to find more mediums and stories to best encompass a variety of issues, identities and backgrounds people identify with.