I think it’s fair to say that the greatest horror show I can imagine has been imagined. Almost for all of my life. That’s OCD. There can be no harsher mental feeling than chronic OCD, where the sufferer has to literally go blind into their day, utterly mentally upended by the chemical imbalance and all of its agonised and antagonised ways of the brain. Of course I want to live and feel things the way I need to feel them. To even survive properly. Of course I don’t want this to define me. I want it to be, well, “yeah, I have this thing but somehow I’m able to keep a lid on it.” And in many ways I truly have managed such a thing, because walking around with this in your head is… W-O-W!! And Ouch. All in a hotwired imagination and all of the time, not even letting you mentally learn to take on new things, that in itself managing to also freak out your OCD brain, like it must be your fault for that to be happening too. Everything is your fault. Or rather everything is on a pathological knife-edge, and seeing as you’re the only one trying to figure it out it’s bound to be you who ends up freaking out one way or the other inside of your head, of course. And then you chase that. Or, rather than that, your imbalanced and pained brain chases that thing in search of a calm that does not really appear to exist for it. To fix it, but you can’t ‘cos all that the OCD ever does is it keeps you stuck in limbo-land. Too drenched in mental panic and fear to actually trust yourself enough to learn new things. Even in a minute’s time. The obsessions and ruminations leaving you utterly… mentally paralysed whilst your brain is also simultaneously still FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. Stuck. Much more than stuck. Knowing it but not at all being able to trust it. Not knowing what’s important and at what level and on any given day. Things you need to do become of the same level of high-risk, let’s say, relevance as taking a dump, as having a shower, as brushing your damn teeth, even. It’s all… panic stations and way, way beyond that thing, too. It becomes impossible to not only calm down but to also make choices and calculations, etc. with your day’s doings. Everything becomes a truly petrifying mental game that I can no longer try and explain the ins-and-outs of. I mean, I can, and I have already done that thing, I guess, but I’ll just end-up finding myself simultaneously stuck inside of its imbalance either way. It’s not like writing out just how clearly fucked-up this disorder is will suddenly make the OCD disappear, and I understand this too. Kinda… . Unfortunately it ain’t a math equation with a guaranteed answer. “Yes! I finally did it, I figured it out just this one time like I always knew that I could and would be able to do. Time to move on now.” Even if that really needs to become the case someday with this particular mental illness. It’s like having to literally live with a myriad of different mindsets, really, in many ways. Many moods, too, perhaps. All of it hotwired owing to a mental imbalance in an extremely telling place in the brain, obviously. Many decisions begging to be made. And made again… and again. Only ever adding to the mental distortion at the base of it all. I have to take it all onboard and to be thankful for the diagnosis, which without it things really would be way worse, I’m certain of that. But here’s a truth. It’s beyond miraculous that I’ve lived with this thing for this long. I don’t wanna be negative but I have to state what’s obvious too. But an OCD sufferer should not have to live like this. And I truly hope that one day… they won’t. It’s too… way up in the air and mentally non-stop for us.