How an OCD brain unravels? Imbalance. That is the standalone part that the sufferer has to live with. The seriously significant part that the sufferer needs to keep reminding themselves is causing all of this interruption-of-brain in the first place, let’s call it. The rest? That imbalanced brain looking to find a certain degree of calm which is most certainly not there in the initial instance that I speak of. How has that worked out for me and my OCD? Well, here goes nothing. Since eleven. That is when it all started to go belly-up for myself, not that I had any clue that is was to eventually, thank Christ, be diagnosed as OCD, albeit after… about twenty undiagnosed years of walking about the place in a level of mental intrusion that just cannot be equaled. And inevitably making an extremely giving and caring boy turn into a chronically negative version of himself owing to that imbalance I spoke of. So, as I say, you try and unearth a calm for your mind that doesn’t appear to exist like should be the norm. “Most probably,” you inform yourself. And this is where the OCD rabbit-hole becomes a living, seething nightmare for the sufferer, and of course for their family and nearest and dearest to them in-tow. My search for an unfound calm somehow turned itself into a screaming, kicking mental belief STRONGER THAN ANYTHING ELSE IN MY LIFE AND BY AN ABSOLUTE MILE that IF I DID NOT FIGURE-OUT HOW TO MAKE IT NOT HAPPEN… OUTRIGHT I would one-million-percent end-up homeless and broke and, well, that theme has followed me about like a fucking demon inside of my brain until today, I am 41 years-of-age now. That is the theme. That IF I DO NOT FIGURE-OUT HOW THE HELL TO STOP THAT PARTICULAR THING FROM DEFINITELY HAPPENING OUTRIGHT I WILL end-up broke and homeless. End-of. The theme can of course then jump to a million other, they call it, sub-themes. But money was and is my main driving force with the OCD – my standalone theme in the first place that has undeniably wreaked havoc on my life and, let’s be fair, altered its outcome in outlandishly upside-down ways. I don’t write this in anger. Not for a second. I have accepted it as well as I possibly can whilst still living with it, there is nothing else a sufferer can try and do, really, I feel. I write these notes, either here on my website or on my notepad in my phone, because I do feel I owe people an explanation for it all. Its… ins-and-outs. Its all-out illogic which brings a person and their mind to a place of such disorderly and distorted anguish that it really cannot continue on like that for other people who might incur this mental illness from here-on-in. An attempted proof to be read aloud by others to try and portray what has, and still is, and most probably still will continue to happen, while you only ever get met with frustration from an ever-willing and -loving mother, ahead of everyone else, who tried like no-one’s business to understand what the fucking hell was happening to their kid more than anyone. And, guess what, she did find out what precisely WAS happening to him. But the closer someone gets to someone with a chronic mental illness the more chance of them getting burned by the outpouring of rage on the sufferer’s part, the downfall that comes with it all. I hold my hand up to that one-million-percent as well as anything else with this. In that time I have written about nine-thousand-plus poem-pieces, let’s say, to keep my addled head somewhat above water. So with the OCD. Its imbalance and all that comes with it in the form of a mentally crucifying rabbit-hole like NO OTHER. If it is all happening in the mind and almost all of the time how on earth is a sufferer ever going to get themselves to a mental place wherein… catastrophe is not all that they spend their time trying to stop happening? And even if all these catastrophes did happen, which on a mental note they certainly do for a sufferer of OCD, in terms of that particular fallout, per se, what then? Nothing. You would move on, like any normal-thinking person does, or at least tries to do. They incur that hardship of experience and they learn from it, hopefully, as best they can. Whereas with a brain imbalance of any kind, it is always and forever only ever going to be happening inside of the person’s brain/mind so, really… what gives and why the hell do they spend an unmatched amount of their lives trying to… unearth a calm in their brain via doing the exact one thing that turns that very same brain all the more to mulch? Now that’s just about as mad as it gets right? And that would make pure sense to myself, even, if only I did not have OCD tagging along for the trip of a lifetime. Guess that is why it is a mental illness that I am diagnosed with, and why everyone else says what they say about it in trying like hell to help me… … time and time AGAIN! I have a mental illness, no two ways, even if my brain pretty much can forget that fact literally within seconds of finding itself automatically entertaining that rabbit-hole/the trigger of themes that come with the imbalance. That is OCD, and this is why I cannot give-up, because it is unmatched for its level of mentally mystifying distortion. For its utter misrepresentation of a person’s natural being. But why so? When all that the sufferer EVER LOOKS TO DO IN THE FIRST, SECOND, THIRD… FOURTH MILLIONTH PLACE IS TO… find a sense of calm for that addled brain that all started-up, in my instance, at the age of eleven?!