Fuck me! It seems the OCD has yet to decide whether or not it’s seen the last of me
Every now and then it will throw something in my direction, anything really so long as it leaves an impression
FUCK RIGHT OFF!! The more I tell the thing what to do the more I entertain it, more I allow for it to sing – a nail on a blackboard more like, no such mic.
Split my personality well and truly in two
There’s the real me… and then there’s the polar opposite of that, the putridly impossible to explain existence of OCD
Sweat pouring right on out of me, so much thinking, over-analyzing that I’m more often than not left sitting at home, alone, on my bed rooted to the spot
Unable to even as much as get myself showered, that the awesome power of the beast
Far too much for me to take
Is medication a crutch? Perhaps, but that never lasts too long
Above all else, you need to stay crazy strong, stronger than strong in fact
And as soon as you do manage to leave the pain behind you will often find that a thought given over to the OCD is dangerous, even if you might not realise it, thoughts that slowly but surely drag at your heels, ’til its right back in place sitting atop your shoulders, has you ashen-faced to the last, looking to mind-fuck you into being the cause of your very own demise

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