For the past two days my brain feels entirely… paralysed. I think it’s gone into… something like… detachment mode. I can’t feel anything and I’m scared. Fuck this illness, and fuck the fact that I have no call whatsoever in any of it and on a moment to moment basis, and fuck the fact that I can’t feel like me at all right now, not that I ever really can, of could. Fuck, I’m so heartbroken with this thing. This fucking thing doesn’t even let me cry, I’m too caught-up in rumination to even feel an emotion to cry about! I can’t have to go through any more of this shit and I just can’t understand what the fuck is happening to my caring, smart, and honest, and funny brain. I’m fucking depleted. This has destroyed me, continues to fucking destroy me. And all because I only ever try to stop my brain from going on and on in fucking mind-destroying circles. I literally did NOTHING TO DESERVE OR ASK FOR THIS. I want my mind to be mine, I want someone to fix this particular fucking mental illness. I have lost everything to this. I want no more of this. This is… impossible. Caite Feeley was right to ask: “is it impossible, Brian?” Yeah, Caite, it does appear to be just that thing for me. You don’t lose a life. You watch as your life gets pulverised and stuck in an utterly horrific array of misfiring thoughts that feel like UTTER AND ABSOLUTE reality while you crawl through your day, second to second, wishing that just ONCE you could feel and believe in your mind that the world isn’t going to actually end in a split second unless you FIX IT NOW. That just ONCE you can hug your beloved and ever-caring mother and feel it, that she isn’t going to disappear the second you leave the room. Go figure. OCD IS insanity. Yeah, I’m having a fucking atrocious day, but then all of the days are that thing, really. How the fuck am I standing upright is an absolute fucking miracle. How can I work? I can’t even wake up without being stuck in a lifelong fucking fear-filled paralysis of mind. And how on earth can I read, study, have fucking fun with people if my brain is in this turmoil all the time. My brain is fucking… stuck and being pulverised to death by “what-ifs”!! The truest truth is this: if I really, and I mean REALLY, want to live well with my OCD then I am going to have to literally stand and let the imbalance do its damnedest at all times. That particular thing shouldn’t have to be expected of anybody whatsoever in this world 💓
Categories
- Humour (4,673)
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- Mental Health (167)
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Recent Poems
- The Vow To Take WIDEAWAKE Shelter
- “They Will Keep On Acting, Even If We Can Still See All Of The Props In aNtaGonIsEd OpEraTioN”
- They Stole The Actual inROADS
- Cracked Happenings. Going Golden Without Anyone Knowing
- Their Indelible UnderstAndings. Maybe They’ll Be Still Painting Us In: when we turn ourselves saNe
- Caught Beneath A Landslide And Still Smiling
- When Big ISSUES Become Utterly NonNegotiable..
- A Concoction That Curbed Its Own Enthusiasm.
- Eyesore and on
- Stamping Their Authority Atop Of A SiZzLinG Grenade And Speaking Anyway.
- To PlayAgainstTheGrain
- “Like Clouds, OutLOUD We Wandered”
- Marvellous At Appearing Ridiculously MediocRe
- Playtime of Mind
- “What We Did When They Asked For SedAtion.”
- 👍
- Attention Captured = but how does a man turn tragedy toward its opposite Advantage(??)
- What if stepping stones is all that we were anyway (??)
- Secretive Somebodies Someday Soon
- (Her) Professional Dreams
- Nunchucks Beware
- _”a round of applause for the reprobate at the bacK, please.”
- “Good Grief, She’s An Imbecile.”
- “Convince me, Please.”
- “The Window Blinds Were Down but Her Mind Was Wide-Alive”
- OCD – an impossible imbalance of the brain
- “They Create While The Rest Of Us Sedate Ourselves SiLly.”
- Taking Aim & Losing All Of Our Bullets On The Floor Anyway, Angela.
- Slaughterhouse book club – where the girls are men and the men are eccentric grannies for free
- A Pulsation That Called Its Own BlUfF
- ‘RamRaiding The Cobwebbed Archives, They Do Dive In Excitably’
- “Vroom, Vroom… Ergo.”
- A Hammer to the heART of the MaTtEr – essentially, she’s a Mother******* miracle of mind, and he hopes she sees it
- They Were Endlessly Entitling Themselves to Utter Appreciation,And The Reasons WERE In Fact Endless
- “When We Watched Them Shadowbox Inside Of Their Own Mind.”
- ✌️
- “Wiping That Glare Off Their Face – And Staring Into The Unknown For The Sake Of A Trigonometry Quiz.”
- “Their Boutique of Mind.”
- Understanding An Achievement
- Taking Their GlItCh And RAISING IT. It’s highly LIKELY that they’ve been enticed by something UTTERLY OUTRAGEOUS
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