I cannot be tracing my every moment of any given day with what I did amidst the OCD. Bumped into an old school friend in Anthony Ryan a while ago, always thought the world of that fella but neither can I really remember such a thing too much as the OCD has pretty much depleted all of these normal occurrences and memories for me. But, I dunno, he seemed like he was happy to see me, but all I remember, really, is being a teenager in his house one time and drinking and being, well, caught in a world of OCD turmoil. I dunno if he ever got to know about that, about that particular part about me, but neither can I change that particular thing outside of my own dealings with it for myself. So, as things do go – so I am tracing back over my day after all, it seems – I was down-town and collecting shopping for Mom and on my way home and, as I said, got to bump into Anthony Ryan. His gorgeous son was with him, Theo. Gorgeous red hair and a spectacular smile. His wife too, and his mother. Who was always so lovely and nice to me. I get frustrated and a little worried, too, sometimes when people might end up mistaking their utter lack of knowledge as to what my OCD onslaught actually entails with regards how my brain works, or at least how I try to make it work around the imbalance, in so far as they might see my reacting maybe a little slower and more… delicately, tardily even, in my demeanour in general, and even refer to the stuff I write here, and think I have, say, autism, or something else… stifling like that. It’s not like any of these things, and the way I see it, at least with autism or any other neurodivergent diagnoses, the person isn’t in a world of mental rumination which they cannot cease. That our only battle every single day behind all of the landscape of mind OCD drags our mind through, is to just… not let a huge imbalance tip us off centre again. I do everything, and I even try to stop writing, to stop doing anything but being okay with the OCD. And I know it doesn’t really give me time to sit still and actually learn the punctuation, I instead mistaking my fear and pressure of mind for having to rush, rush, rush at everything I do. But I’m fairly certain it makes enough sense to, well, make sense for those who need to know about my OCD. I know what to do but to do it, it will indeed take a world of mental trust. Always has. Like sitting with a ticking time-bomb of mind. The rest? Discombobulated and distorted thoughts on repeat and interfering with new learnings, etc… . And, what’s more, tricking our frazzled minds into trying to understand everything but instead of being able to do it with time, something which we don’t in fact have given to us in the first place by our imbalanced brains, we end up attempting to ‘figure it out’ – when there truly is nothing left to figure out – til left, well, blue in the, ahem, head and utterly distorting our hoped for translation of that same thing. And the rest, after that, is an imbalanced brain with no calm button so, instead, it just keeps doing this particular thing in surely what can only be called maniacal circles… for most of our lives. That’s OCD. It pretty much became a debacle inside of my brain because of this disorder, this mental illness, a very, very, VERY long time ago. And, most of the time, pretty much all that I’ve been able to do with both my mental strength and energy is to remain upright and not caught-up time again in its grasp. It’s like whatever I am doing, etc., however it appears to anyone else, my own mind is just… trying with all of its might (as in, I’m trying with all of my might) not to get caught in the imbalanced territory of “SOMETHING IS OUTLANDISHLY WRONG RIGHT NOW AND YOU HAVE TO, HAVE TO, HAVE TO FIGURE A SUREFIRE WAY TO FIX IT ALL AND IMMEDIATELY… or else.”