How can I complain about OCD when it gave me a mind which can seemingly simply find the utter beauty in all of these things, can unearth a way to show that I care for those people who are willing and ready to give a piece of themselves to me as much as I do them? And if I give more then that’s my own over-empathetic way ruling a little too much, I guess. It’s hard not to complain however, because OCD did destroy my life for the most part – interrupting my natural thought process, my day to day endeavours, and I’m afraid that it is a particular thing which I will have to be oh so very careful with as I continue on in my life. But it’s a life and that’s enough right now. It has to be, goddamnit. There’s the writing, but there is also, of course, me – a person who can manage to appear incredibly calm and chilled on the outside perspective while all kinds of blindingly, unexplainably mixed-up chaos occurs within. I never knew how to just do a day like any other person minus a severe disorder and normal enough things like hangovers weren’t hard owing to the alcohol but rather the constant 33-year harassment on my poor brain by said disorder piled brutally atop it all. How do you know how something everyone else experiences without mental health issues feels when you are in fact already trying to literally deactivate what I will call a seriously heightened irrationality complex in your brain? You’re already going into it with your defences down around your crawling knees, you never stood a chance, really. For me it will have to be either sink or swim with this – no in-between because in-between is coping and coping is still my version of hell on earth. Still a paradoxical thing, and trust me when I say that to feel freedom from OCD can feel like a piece of heaven on earth. But why can I not always have that? That’s just it, I can and absolutely will. I never asked for any of this. And who in their right mind ever would!? Ha, there you have it right there, the mind isn’t right to be perfectly, soberingly honest about it. I never understood how or why it happened to my mind, and certainly cannot begin to comprehend how I did achieve all that I did anyhow. OCD places you in the most surreal and agonised existence surely known to be, it destroying your mind’s control system and literally leaving you looking to pick up the misfiring pieces – which are a dime a dozen and pockmarked and scatter-dashed upon an unbelievably overheated brain by the by!! – and to somehow, anyhow, soldier on regardless. I’m tired from it but one thing I did manage to control was to never, ever give up on myself because I always knew what awaited me at the other side of it. I even knew this bare fact when I was fastened to a bed for most of my days by my very own wonderful brain. Did people realise? Yes, my friends tried to, but no… not for the most part which is just insane because, rest assured, I would understand if they told me that they might have been ploughing through this thing themselves. Am I a phenomenal person? Absafuckinglutely I am. I mean, right this very minute at… 5:40 in the morning it is vying for my every attention in longing to take me away from the moment and flag my whole day, week, month, life!!! And this is an exceptional day compared to the worst. Let’s just say that college for me was a five year sentence akin to being thrown into prison minus the key, plus the knowledge that you have been convicted for life for something you wouldn’t dare to even dream to do. Nelson Mandela anybody? Only with added on mental anguish, I do not kid here. Am I bitter? Not quite – to be bitter will swallow you up too, and I really, well and truly cannot afford to feel that way either. Why be bitter when you can finally breathe!? Most people appear to be proud of the course that they might have studied at college or in their spare time around the working hours of their day. And while I did land a fairly impressive college degree on its own merit, my pride has to, above all else, solely lie in my graduation from a Masters ‘degree’ going on up inside of my head from the most painstaking case of Pure-O OCD quite possibly going. Graduating at least in so far as learning and understanding every minutiae aspect of the ways to attempt to best control it, however this does not mean that I am by any means given my piece of ribboned paper and informed that I’ve done my time now and can head on into the real world – the real world is occuring every day for me as it is you, and for myself the clearer that world and picture and just how well I apply my course structure to everything will continue to set me wholeheartedly apart and bring my fingers and clutched hand closer to wrapping themselves around that paper. Yes, there is no rest for the wicked so it seems, just I am so far from wicked it truly is unfair. I do wonder how Bressie feels about having to talk about his stuff every day along with his own career. Fair play but no fucking thank you, g’luck!!!

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