Is this OCD?

A bit about me before I start: 30F, diagnosed with major depressive disorder and panic disorder as teen. Have not followed up in years due to finally kicking a mild prescription drug addiction in 2022. I’m currently a SAHM to a 2 yo, and I finally feel the postpartum depression wearing off. I spend a lot of time in my house with my toddler while my spouse works. With that, I’ve noticed some habits that are being exacerbated by being confined, so to speak. And though I know it’s hard to diagnose a mental health condition online, I’ll try to go into detail about why I think I have some form of OCD. Every couple of years I have a major life crisis as a result of outside factors. Two years ago, it was postpartum and my grandfather passing, simultaneously. I went through a period of depression subsequently. In 2020, it was the world lockdown and being in an abusive relationship that made me spiral. And I mark these episodes in time as significant because I’m a generally optimistic person. But, when bad things happen, like really happen, I spiral into a months long pit of despair. So I find it in my best interest to identify these triggers so maybe, when my next episode starts, I’ll be able to pull myself out of it more easily. But back to the habits. I count, I count everything, all day long. And I always have. The steps I take, the cracks on the sidewalk I walk on, how many I’ve stepped on with my right foot so that I step on the same amount with my left. I count the number of birds in the yard multiple times, and when one flies away, I count again. I count the articles of clothing someone is wearing in hopes that it’s an even number. When I get up in the middle of the night to go potty (mom brain) I count the number of soap bottles in the shower, the amount of doors in the hallway, (I try not to peer into my daughters open playroom so as not to play tricks on my eyes) I count the hinges on the open door to my bedroom along with the screws in each, the pin holding the hinges in place, the doorknob, the screws on the doorknob, and the number of wooden floorboard leading from the bathroom to the spare room in one direction because I don’t have time to count them all. And this is where the trauma sets in. Before I can get comfortable in bed and feel secure, I ensure that no one has snuck into my room and hidden in my closet without my knowledge. I check the closet, I leap onto my bed, I check the floor 3x along with the bedroom door ensuring that it’s locked. I have to physically get up 3 separate times to make sure there is no one secretly crawling from the closet to my bed where my daughter and I lie at night. I cosleep still due to immense postpartum anxiety. My husband invested in an ADT alarm system to alleviate my worries, but it only does so much, clearly. I think a lot of the trauma and fear I have now, especially around bedtime, is linked to my childhood. My mother was a single mom and worked both day and night leaving myself and my younger sister alone at night. This created a lot of fear for me. We were not able to afford solid locks or an alarm system then, so I made my own by putting silverware in a cup of top of a barstool in front of each exit doorway in my house. The thought process was that if someone opened the door, the spoons would fall, alert me, and give me time to protect my sleeping sister. I’m sorry for the drawn out story. I’m sure it reads awfully as I’m typing this all out before bed. Please tell me what you all might think it is. I just want to get an idea. I’m contemplating seeing a therapist, because I know it would be in the best interest of my family. This all came about because I showed my husband Neil Hilborn’s “OCD” on YouTube and explained that I do the counting thing in my head too. Thanks in advance.