This thing is difficult beyond all words of description, really, and I do do absolutely everything I can to be okay with it. But it’s not about being just okay with it, though, is it? It’s about somehow figuring a way to not touch the imbalance at the core of it all, which my mind by now finds that to pretty much be an impossibility. Or that the imbalance has latched onto pretty much all of my mind’s thoughts. I don’t really care how smart or caring I might or might not be. Don’t even appear to mind too much all that it takes from me, seeing as I’m too wrapped up in it most of the time and to some excruciating extent to maybe even be able to fully understand these fallouts. But either way I am okay with it. I know that much. I have to be, and times-a-million. Again, this is all rather much another version of the exact same message I end up trying to get across and portray. All-encompassing. All of everything, really. I march on. Mesmerised by it, mind-blown by it, utterly mind-altered and -distorted by it. But what am I to do when it wholly convinces itself – the mind convinced by the brain – that catastrophe is happening, will happen? And what then about how profoundly strong that belief regarding an inbuilt OCD theme can become for the sufferer, when catastrophe only ever can happen in a physical instance and nothing else really except of course for a catastrophe of the brain happening, which is, of course, precisely what has been happening to mine over all of these decades? The strength of the OCD distortion’s belief processing then, what is even that all about? Not something that I can help fix with my own mind, that’s for sure, but that’s the same mind getting caught up all over again and in any given instance. Therefore going round-and-round in never-ending circles with an algorithm of belief that I have been made to believe will stop this imbalance of illogic from happening? And I only know that that’s the case because I have (had to) reread and reread… and reread about it in books about OCD. Even if I have in fact said that exact same thing to my mother about it feeling like an algorithm and a number of times at that. Like my mind knew… even if my brain was having none of it. Because, really, my mind kinda always did, does, and will know… even if… I never really actually… get to know. Get it?! Nope. But that’s the odd complexity of the beast that is OCD. The OCD brain simply gets to forgetting within minutes, even, what is has just incurred, hence the impossibility to even accept it is an algorithm you are performing… to feel okay… somehow. Sure I do everything, but this shouldn’t and mustn’t need everything and all of the time from the sufferer, seeing as it is a falsified mental process happening. I think I do have the answers. In fact, a large part of me knows that I do. As in how to deal with this thing as best I can. But, then, it is also extremely rare that my mind actually gets itself to a place of really, really almost totally understanding the whole thing from start to middle to end. An out-and-out rarity of an occurrence. The whole outlandish mental gymnastics of brain and mind that happens to the suffer: a mental illness that the sufferer has far, far less than zero interest in entertaining. A mental illness so very all-encompassing that it makes our world around us feel like THE most petrifyingly paranoid experience IMAGINABLE, and even that at best. I just so very much wish that there was a little more proof for my poor and addled mind, even if only from time to time, that this is in fact an actual mental illness and pretty much on my ass to some extent or another and all of the time. But if I had that then I guess it wouldn’t really be a colossal cluster**** of a mental illness in the first place, would it? Such is its distortion, etc, etc. Brekkie with Ruairi in The Perfect Cup today. Bumped into Leary on the way back to Ruairi’s car. Ruairi and Eoin are two absolute Grade-A legends and love being mates with the pair of them. The most happy and go lucky fella, I am… even if this thing is along for the ride all the bloody time. That much I also know of. On we go. On I learn, and on I try and write the right kind of stuff about the OCD that can help many, many others in the future. Be it near or further down the field. It is most certainly a gigantic exercise in utter mental resilience, and I have to take my hat off to that. And, to be fair, I guess if I wasn’t the actual person suffering with this thing then I’d definitely stand apart from it all and remain forever mesmerised by what I have to do to live with this illness. Fierce and strong and horrible, that it all is, to my being fierce and strong and passionately devoted to being as okay as humanly possible in my own mind and brain. As sufferers we do indeed suffer a mental onslaught quite probably like no other.