I think I really now need to try and help all people with ocd, including myself. It’s an imbalance that scatters our brains and minds everywhere. This isn’t about the themes which we seem to end-up growing into over time – the themes that will just make it all of the more scary and mentally taxing for the sufferer, plus stuck in that loop of “what-if?” for what can literally be forever. OCD, whatever the social take on it is, is ACTUALLY this: a brain imbalanced in the places where a person NEEDS to usually solely rely on for normal, day-to-day decisions. We are indescribably ill with regard the disorder we have. We know this, however not enough inside of our frazzled minds and brains to stop it from happening to us. It is a life lost to utter mental discombobulation and, therefore, a fallout with a person’s own personality, too. You’re wishing for it to come back to you but… it just won’t. The anxiety level way too high all of the time, for instance, for a sufferer to even begin to understand what normal anxiety might actually be and feel like. I am not looking to be exactly correct with how a mental illness affects each person but what I am looking to do is to let my people know that I do nothing in my life except to try and cease the imbalance. But, more often than not, I cannot achieve this. More often than not I am merely taping over the cracks and praying for the best. The best, I guess, deep-down and with regard the mental illness being… a calm mind? So, yeah. While hitting my 40th birthday next week is a huge milestone in most people’s minds. For me it is pretty much an inexplicable achievement in itself for me to have reached it at all. It’s the truth, even if so very at odds with what I want to be admitting to in my life at this stage, or any stage for that matter. Because of having OCD. It drags you through mental panic on a par with not much else I can either imagine or have even come across in any other person that I’ve met. We aren’t looking to upset anyone whatsoever at all. All that an OCD sufferer is looking to do is to… literally just not be chasing this “what-if?” question around inside of their minds for the entirety of their life. And it’s not a… normal what-if? It’s a what-if that has us so disturbed and petrified by it that we are utterly paralysed in the first place even before we try and deal with it against our every will. Call it what you want. Call it… Agonised Brain discombobulation, if that makes it easier, because this OCD thing seems to just put everyone in one bracket and then having to listen to what others perceive to be wrong with them. I’m not angry. I’m petrified that my brain will never stop being this way. That it might never stop stopping my truest personality from being what it is. I mean, people seem to still see it, but even if so, when might I get to enjoy that feeling of being myself? Of making my own decisions on a daily basis. It’s beyond anything and it’s now time for me to say that this mental disorder is so wrongly understood also because, well, guess what, us sufferers can never be able to explain what is happening with our brains and minds because IT IS DISTORTED. It is being taken for an ungodly ride like NO OTHER. Utterly. I so wish I had the answer to it. Not to all mental illnesses or what even people need to do to relax, but to just… live with OCD the way the effing books about it ask me to all the time. But when you follow something by the books and do everything to alleviate it, and yet you still cannot get better, then you kinda maybe have to put your hand up and admit to it being perhaps too strong an imbalance. But none of the above, whatever I do, seems to stop the actual imbalance. The utter agony which NOONE GETS TO TRULY SEE. It’s not us. It’s not us, or at least it’s certainly not me, in the same comparable way that Hitler was not a saint. It’s… that against our everything. Everything. It’s a trip-switch, not a decision. As I said, no-one can ever know of the true fallout with OCD – so, as it stands I am going to rename it as Agonised Brain Discombobulation – inside of a sufferer’s head. We cannot do such a thing with any mental illness, or even any kind of trouble going on inside of a mind in general. That’s pretty much a given. But when that mind gets whacked a million ways out of necessary shape? Well, that’s when people need to try and understand the fallout for a person, that they are doing their very utmost to live a normal life, or at least to be able to live minus the utter intrusion of a mental illness this chronic. Discombobulation of the mind, whichever. I know full-well what I have missed. Know full-well what it puts my family through, even if it puts me through a million times the panic, etc. it will ever put anyone else through. But please remember THIS PARTICULAR PART… that no part of me has ever wished to not work, not play, not be organised and healthy, or at least to choose how to go about all of the above-mentioned things, because my brain doesn’t often let me chose to do anything but to bask in survival mode. The only mainstay with my mental disorder is this: that I cannot work. That I cannot just do things the way a person minus a mental illness, and especially a person with a mental illness this chronic, does things. I’ll never stop, but that is no real kind of life when you cannot feel your own mind and personality properly because, well, it’s been knocked off its perch.