🤔

I don’t actually know if ocd sufferers live with this all the time or not – the introspection with regards the actual illness itself and its wrong-doings. What I do know, however, is that we are living in our heads. And all of the time. No two ways about that. Unfortunately, that said, there can oftentimes turn out to be a million other ways.. to try and finally figure it ALL OUT. Inside of our heads, I mean. And it does feel like something needs to be figured out for us. Pretty much one-hundred percent. And… if it isn’t figured out then what happens? DISASTER: out and out disaster. It’s… difficult to say the least, and even the frustration of having this illness of the brain is usually outwitted by the actual level of mental anguish we incite in ourselves in trying as we might to aforementioned figure it all out. It’s pitiful and it’s a rare old thing, and it’s certainly fucked-up and so, so very badly at that. You want out and you n-e-e-d to trust the process of facing all the fear head-first. That’s the thing, though. It’s all in your bloody head in the first place, which is fucking dreadful, especially seeing as you want NO PART IN IT WHATSOEVER. Listening to other people search for bloody drama in their lives, it all being “me, me, ME!!” can be utterly infuriating for an ocd sufferer. Why? Because they’ve worn that particular damn t-shirt all of their life. And you do need to have feelings, obviously, so that’s fine, too, to feel that way I’m sure. You’re not a robot, even if your mind ends up often than not feeling that way. Ocd is incurable because, well, far too much of the brain appears to be brutally lit-up like a fekn Xmas tree and in all of the wrong yet UTTERLY necessary placed when it comes to needing these areas of the brain to process and proceed with your day normally. We don’t get to know normal, as such. We don’t even get to too often figure-in happiness to the whole mental equation. That’s putrid, too. Stuff shakes us up, makes us feel dragged throughout the day and all courtesy of the imbalanced shit happening inside of our own heads. You can’t cure it. There is serious talks of Deep Brain Stimulation becoming the last resort saviour for ocd sufferers who have it to a chronic extent. I have it to that extent and, well, I won’t stop trying. Why? Because the opposite of trying, what is it exactly and in this particular instance? Dying in the mind, quite literally 🤷‍♂️ 😉 I never wanted to be so open about a mental illness but, really, I had zero choice in that particular matter. And it’s not the same as anything anyone else tries to compare it too. Your mind has been.. both paralysed and utterly distorted. It’s… I don’t know what to call it anymore. All I know is I do want out and so, so much it cannot EVER be stated enough. No sufferer of ocd wants this particular story to be theirs. But the utter mental agony of non stop ruminating…. that’s heartbreakingly imprisoning. And if it is all utterly illogical then why the hell does it feel one trillion percent real?????