Okay. My OCD theme. Money. That I will be broke, homeless, whichever really unless… I figure out a way not to be that thing. That’s my theme, that is the single thing that derails my entire brain and mind, too, and what I think of and against my utter, utter will 100 percent of the time. So, what that does in turn and with constant ruminating over time – again, to find a way to make it NOT HAPPEN TO ME IN MY LIFE – is distorts my brain to a point of utterly ******-UP MENTAL… searching. I have no call in this, whatsoever, or at least next to none even with medication and ERP onboard as I go. It is my brain reacting to the chemical imbalance that is freaking the shit outta it in the first place. Still trying to figure out a way that that thing can not end-up happening, but along the way my brain never gets to stop, really, and ends-up lending itself and its days to… this, for example. If I have money, sticking with that theme, my mind cannot, or at least my brain won’t allow itself to understand how much I am spending, how much I have left in my wallet, and I can actually not handle a night-out at all, and as soon as, say I buy a pint, my brain goes through that same possibility of being homeless. I’d rather throw money away than have to deal with the distortion of buying a few lousy pints causes my mind. And what this has done in my case is it won’t mentally allow me to, for instance, understand what I am spending and what I am not spending, etc. etc. And as I try and see how I should be able to think these things out, I freak out even more because my mind isn’t given the time to learn these things. That’s… insane! Like the mere sight or thought of money or a transaction of any sort has already been thirty years in the making distorting my mind whilst my brain is still making sure how to NOT END UP HOMELESS. That’s the theme for me, with my OCD. And as I am on disability welfare, one hundred percent deserved, what happens with that is: it isn’t a case of how much I get every week, how much I should spend. I mean, it fucking should be just that simple thing… and on with my life I live. Obviously you try and spend less than you have. However, my OCD-distorted brain believes ONE HUNDRED PERCENT that if I spend it, or the wrong amount, I will undeniably end up homeless or penniless. Something akin to those two things anyhow. Why is it doing that and why is that the particular theme? Fuck knows when it comes to a distorted brain, really. It’s this strange as hell black or white, back and forth conundrum that my imbalanced OCD brain has eventually come up with and all by its distorted self. I understand I am on welfare for a seriously complex mental illness but my mind isn’t being given the time of day to trust itself amidst this utter brain malfunction, which is looped at this stage in proceedings and can happen again in a split-second, even if I’ve just done everything to be okay in my mind with the OCD imbalance for a while. So, I even can’t concentrate on getting work because I am thinking all of these automatic and mind-crushing things through ALL OF THE TIME and that makes pretty much everything an impossibility on a mental note. I’ve covered all the angles I can, I’ve even imagined how I’d perform in even the most basic of jobs. Inevitably, I wouldn’t. Why? Because of this whole atrocious OCD. I have even ripped-up €500 in front of my mother years ago, to show her just how little this is really about the money, at least in terms of what the illogical theme of money owing to the OCD has done to my brain in making me truly ONE HUNDRED PERCENT believe that I WILL BE HOMELESS IF I DO NOT FIGURE IT OUT! Figure what out? How not to end up homeless. As in, the money is nothing anymore to me in many ways but for a God-awful trigger that keeps my mind caught in, let’s call it, OCD-Land. As of, in many ways, money is rendered totally useless to my mind. A petrifying theme of my OCD, indeed, and absolutely nothing else of any real significance. I am trying, will always try, because to have gotten myself to here is… HOW????! 😊