The truth is this. I honestly don’t actually know how long more my mind can take this illness. It’s proving as impossible as ever, and I can’t watch it happen for many more years. Standing in the way of everything I experience on a mental note. I do everything. Everything. Only, then, to be told – and I get this… but I also don’t get this because of the bloody OCD – that it’s all illogical. But it is where the illogical thoughts and beliefs are happening that is the REAL problem. I don’t really live. I get glimpses of living. Only, then, I get caught-up in another two months or so of nonstop, cyclical rumination. I am petrified. Petrified, more than anything else, really, because of the mental anguish and the chaotic nature of the continuous daily fear it causes. This isn’t about things happening anymore. About worrying about events falling apart at the seams. I’m past that, it seems. It is about an imbalanced brain since the age of eleven-years-old which has been knocked immeasurably off its centre. It’s about a mental diagnosis so very untrustworthy and unruly in its nature that NOTHING inside of a sufferer’s mind CAN BE trusted. I don’t know how long one mind can hold it together. I wish I was not only able to hold it together but, also, to actually THINK IN A STRAIGHT LINE. I never did, or do, anything wrong- that’s just who I am. Who I have, and always will, be. But there comes a time when the pain needs to cease. And I’ve done my part times-a-million over-invested and UTTERLY wasted thoughts. I’ve done it all. I’ve walked and talked and even been, quite honestly, an incredible person throughout this thing. I’m tired of being tired and of being caught in this loop-cycle of anxiety inside of my mind. How can a person have their own thoughts and beliefs when ALL OF THEIRS have only ever been… intruded upon by an imbalance?! It’s outlandish and I can’t give up. I just cannot. It’s too good, this life and the people I have in it. I never wanted to be an over-thinker or anything dramatic like that. That is ALL by mental accident, really. But, obviously, you are going to inevitably seem and sound that way with words on a page, whenever you do try to explain yourself to people. I explain it to myself, I try and ‘fix it’, I INCORRECTLY run with the ruminations to fix the FALSE FEAR. All of this amidst a life I try to lead as well and as organised and as humour-filled as I possibly can. I will always do my best. Have always done that, and hope that this thing can be allayed sooner rather than later for me. I want to feel my love for someone. I want to invite in errors and problems and to deal with them as best as a human-being actually can. Then, of course, there are the many, many amazing things that actually do get to happen on a daily basis for me. However, the OCD-brainwash literally does NOT LET YOU CONCENTRATE ON, let alone, remember these things. That ALL falls away to nothing. I won’t pray. I won’t promise to be better if I get better. What I will do is… rest. I need to rest. I also miss Rossana and Baxter. Oh. LOOK! A real feeling… !?