There’s a place you’re trying to reach with the ocd. A place wherein you have to have to have to ‘simply’ trust yourself one million percent and the parts of you that are good and fresh and free and not goddamn imbalanced. Now. That can prove entirely impossible and, even when you think you have achieved the miracle of alleviating the ongoing spiralling of multiplying rumination ((a thing that even multi-acclaimed Ocd therapists the world over carrying the smartest minds are having severe difficultly in doing)), suddenly… WHACK!! You appear to be right back where you started. And this is a daily thing. A daily endeavour. A daily attempt to literally do one thing: sit with your every crashing thought til they calm and bring you back to you. Imagine that. A loved one only ever saying, “calm down. It’s all in your head.” That, right there, would appear to be the issue. I achieve what I NEED to personally achieve and of my own accord with this thing and, basically, I could quite possibly go about helping millions of other people, no two ways. That’s how complex my version is. “Arguably the most complex we’ve ever analysed”. And yet, you might not find a fundamentally happier person. That right there makes me the proudest mother fkr in the world

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