Just two years into her comedy career, Kristy Quinn has already shared the stage with some of the biggest names in comedy: Tiffany Haddish, Bobby Lee, Craig Robinson, Dane Cook. She’s seen her face on marquees from The Laugh Factory in Hollywood to the West Side Comedy Club in New York.
But the hardest part of Kristy’s journey came before she got on stage. Six years ago, Kristy couldn’t have imagined her life today. OCD, anxiety, and alcoholism had brought her to rock bottom. It was only when a grand mal seizure almost took her life that she resolved to get sober, conquer her OCD, and finally chase her dream of being a comedian.
While Kristy regularly graces the stage at some of LA’s biggest comedy clubs, she still feels intimidated sometimes—but it’s worth it. “It’s empowering to face your fears,” she says. “I can show people that being vulnerable is what makes us human. And it’s what makes us great.”
I sat down with Kristy to learn more about how a lifetime of OCD held her back from being the full version of herself, and how learning to manage it gave her the life she always knew she could live.
When did you first know you had OCD?
It started super young. I knew something was wrong all the way back in grade school. People would ask me if I had Tourette’s, because I had facial tics and I would make sounds with my throat until it felt “just right.” I had a constant sense of anxiety and fear of things feeling wrong—when it got really bad, I would literally sweat through my clothing.
Before long, I started to have all sorts of intrusive thoughts. I remember one moment specifically—I went to a Catholic school, and there was a sort of ceremony we did where we would place a crown on Mary’s head, in front of the whole school. And my brain picked this exact time, in front of all these kids, to give me these really shameful intrusive thoughts—images of Jesus naked, and stuff like that. The whole time I was worrying, “Am I going to hell?”
In high school, it just got worse. I was constantly engaging in compulsions to try to keep the anxiety and panic attacks away: always counting everything, obsessing about time down to the second. When I finally came home, it always felt like I’d run a marathon.
I started to isolate myself. I avoided people and events. I was just a tortured soul. The thing is, I had always loved being around people and engaging with everyone. I was even voted class president! But eventually the intrusive thoughts and panic felt like too much. And closing myself off made it all worse.
That’s so common in stories people tell—the most important things in people’s lives are the things that OCD tries to take from them. People sometimes describe it as a “personal torture chamber.”
Exactly. You know you have something great to give, but OCD holds you back. I would always sit in the back of class, all the way through college, because I was so afraid that I would randomly blurt out something horrible. And I almost got a 4.0 in college! But I was filled with fear and anxiety.
You know you have something great to give, but OCD holds you back.
Then, I started a desk job, and it amplified everything. That’s when drinking as a coping mechanism became a huge issue. All that time sitting still, alone with my own thoughts, was the worst possible thing for me—I was never living in the moment. I would have wild, irrational, intrusive thoughts, like If my arm touches this, is someone going to die today? Drinking was my attempt to drown it all out.
So many people with OCD struggle with substance use—the way compulsions work is so similar to how addiction works. When you finally started getting sober and managing OCD, when did you notice things changing for the better?
I’m getting chills just thinking about some of the things I could share. I’ll start with one of my favorite quotes that I tell people: “The wound is the place where the light enters you.” Looking back now, everything that happened to me, even the near-death experiences, made me who I am today.
NOCD has led Kristy Quinn out of some dark places.
The biggest breakthrough moments were about me getting to know myself and accept myself for who I am. As I did ERP therapy to beat OCD, I started noticing other changes, too: I stopped dyeing my red hair, grew it out, embraced my pale skin, did more writing. I started eating healthy, helping people, and getting out of the house more. I started showing up for me, and it felt magical.
Today, just talking about my OCD takes so much of its power away. I can tell people about it and I don’t have to worry about whether they think I’m a weirdo. It makes me feel better, and maybe it helps them feel like they’re not broken either.
I can’t help but imagine you as a young girl who sat in the back of class because she was terrified of blurting something out. I can’t think of anything more horrifying for her than going in front of an audience and telling jokes. Is that anxiety and fear still there when you’re on stage?
It’s always there. But it’s just so freeing to do the exact opposite of what OCD tells me to do. Doing standup takes all the power away from my OCD. It’s like, “Look who decided to show up? Not OCD. It’s ME!” No drinks to cope, no self-medicating—just me.
It’s like, “Look who decided to show up? Not OCD. It’s ME!” No drinks to cope, no self-medicating—just me.
Earlier in my life, comedy was so special to me, and that’s why I feared it so much. OCD made it scary, but deep down I knew I had what it takes. I was just too scared to do something about it. So when I got sober and I got a clear mind, I said I’m going for it.
Being a comedian, facing those fears head-on, is more than just motivating. It gives me life. It gets me out of bed in the morning. It gives me community, it gives me culture. When I wake up, I know there are people I need to show up for. That’s what fulfills me.
There are so many people out there who say that comedy got them through some of the darkest moments in their lives. There’s something really powerful and impactful about it. It’s more than just jokes, right?
It’s so powerful. Ever since I was a little girl, all I wanted was to be real and tell my truth. That was the most important thing to me, and I think that’s why I wanted to get into comedy. Because no one else can give you that. Being raw, being real—that’s something you can only do yourself. To me, that’s what comedy is about.
And it’s about connection, too—not just about making people laugh. Right now, I’m also a host for comedy shows. I amp everyone up, I meet people. I get to be myself, and support other people being themselves. It’s important to take myself out of the equation sometimes. I get to be a light for others.
If you could talk to yourself back when things were really rough, what would you say?
I would remind myself that I already have the patience, discipline, persistence, and integrity I needed to get me where I wanted to be.
It just takes time. Eventually, you’ll see how much strength you really have.
You can keep up with Kristy Quinn on Instagram at @kristyquinncomedy to follow her work or even catch a live show in your area.