Living with OCD has no real comparisons, but what it does need to have is its very own understanding, for the sufferer ahead of anyone else, because this particular mental illness is utterly all-consuming in a manner that really, as I say, cannot be portrayed. It can be one second to the next, it can be one minute to the next, and then it can also be, for many I am sure where the chronic nature of it all isn’t so very bad, week to week. This is not an illness that anyone takes lightly who suffers from it, and while people’s inability to truly come to terms with the pulsating nature of this beast can be a pity, what it can also do is it can have the actual sufferer themselves believing what that person might just have said regarding their opinion on OCD. As in, the suffer might already be so very sidetracked and discombobulated by this engrained imbalance in the first place plus all it entails that they might actually be entirely inclined to think, for example and if a person assumes such a thing, that there isn’t all that much wrong with them after all. A mind and brain taken to unholy task really can cause all sorts of impeding mental problems and extremely quickly too. A mind which has no real calming ground at all in the first place. OCD is… a life withheld, a life trained utterly unwillingly onto chaos, and this is even at its best for many a sufferer of chronic level OCD. For myself, for instance, I write this because I am petrified because really I think I do know that I will fall away time again, the imbalance and all that it has engrained in me over the course of my life just too damn… penetrating, it seems. If I could stop it I would, if I could stop all of it I would. But what if your brain is automatically disordered, distorted, and you even analyze what the hell that even should mean? All. Day… even on a ‘good-day’. From an other person’s point of view, even, because with my OCD – Pure ‘O’ OCD – there really appears to be no real way out for myself with this thing. Just through it, and I’ve accepted that, or at least tried to mentally do so, tried to mentally understand what I might even want to become regretful about missing over time, but then I understand wholly, really, that that isn’t a thing ever worth becoming. Why? Because I have backed myself throughout all of it. Have nurtured my brain and mind as well as any OCD sufferer can manage, perhaps. Every pulsating second I fall, and the fall is horrendously… abstract. Horrendously… inescapable. Horrendously fucking livid and seething all of its own awareness. Where my mind goes because of this imbalance in my brain over all of these years really is… as I say, no words. I am not here to compare it this time, this time I am here to say that I will fall and I will get caught-up inside of such outlandish automatic anxiety and rumination, etc. etc. but that I will NEVER stop trying. Even when my brain believes one-hundred-percent that catastrophe is pending, will happen, heck, maybe even IS happening RIGHT NOW! That the strength of the OCD imagination on fire, let’s call it. Which is a whole other kinda fucked-up altogether. A loss happening when there clearly, or at least what should be clearly, isn’t any actual ‘loss’ happening in front of the sufferer’s very eyes. I NEED to make inroads for a future sufferer because this is not right on so many mentally malfunctioning levels it really is… . No words