It’s beyond words; it is actually beyond everything because it doesn’t exist. The ocd mentality. Well, no that’s wrong, of course it does exist and very much so, actually. It’s just that… it’s an imbalance, a loop cycle of rumination that a sufferer gets ungodly caught up in- could be for weeks, months, even years… decades. An utterly unfair imbalance that needs to be ignored to the point wherein your mind does not catch itself ruminating on a thought for more than, hmm… one minute. Because that is the slippery slope that brings you into a part of irrational thinking which will bear grip you like arguably no other mental thing in the world. It made me smoke. It made me… roar for release. It made me.. sad and frustrated that my own mind was convincing me that the shit was outlandishly gonna hit the fan and NEVER EVER return to normal. An ocd sufferer is not at all used to a normal way of thinking and as a result that needs to be trained into them. Continually and successfully. It is literally a battle with the imbalanced part of your brain and that is all sorts of… rip-roaringly agonising. A waste of time, but you also do not get to fall into a pile in bed and rest your mind; the mind is still doing its damndest to tell you, not ask you, to ruminate til everything in your world HAS TO BE OKAY. It’s insatiable, it’s a monster, and it undeniably takes your perfectly working and caring mind away from itself. That is why the posts are just for me, to know that it is what it is and that I’ve got this, and what’s more always have had it. You realise that you have done something seen to be unachievable in working your way out of said rumination/s. It’s a hell of the mind like, I can only imagine, none other. Down time. What’s that, exactly. Down time never ever exists in an ocd world. It’s a shame and a truest truth, but about ninety eight percent of the past twenty six years I’ve been walking around doing nothing much else but trying to figure out the ruminations. That’s.. outrageous. Sure I only started the scribbles after I turned thirty. But it was all building up within like a mother fkr Jones

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