Not feeling so good today. My stool is bleeding and I dunno what that’s to do with. The medication I take for the OCD or from wiping too hard when I go to the toilet because, well, I am always anxious and that can cause me to rub too hard, maybe? To turn this mental illness into a positive is proving harder and harder for me, be it a good or a bad day, really. All of the days, truth be told, are with OCD along for the ride to some hard-hitting extent or another. I know very little else. And maybe I have given it too much time inside of my head even when I’m really not supposed to. But how does a sufferer not do that, when that is all that we know.? Always has been. Or course it curtails your day to day existence. And of course it makes it feel almost impossible a lot of the time. I’ve tried everything, I really well and truly have, to make myself be as okay as possible with this disorder. The disordered part is just there ready and willing to be returned to and seemingly at the drop of a hat. Like I say, I am not angry about it. It is far too long in the tooth to be about anything like that for me. My mind and brain have covered all angles so as to march on with my day as balanced as I can, and of course it is petrifying for me. My brain and mind are in fact petrified. Even if petrified is a place it seemingly has to let happen so as to initially try and alleviate the mental imbalance and its bombardment. To try and calm that brain/mind down in the first place. For me, it seems to be so deeply engrained in a mental instance that, really, impossible would be the best word to use in explaining my attempts at trying to lead a normal day to day life. My personality, at least in my own experience of it, doesn’t really get to stand a chance. And sure I’ll be saying the same humorous or otherwise things I might want to say to someone else because, well, I have to try and give it its just rewards, but really it’s just a brain and mind jumbled-up to God knows what extent. I want so, so badly to be normal. Or at least to be able to live with it well enough for it not to drive almost everything with my day. To not have this outright… life-destroyer of a mental disorder dragging my mind and brain back into its grasp time and time again. I see a fair bit of articles about OCD in the news lately and that doesn’t really help because it’s just so damn personal to each and every other sufferer. It’s not like knowing someone else feels this pain for themselves helps a sufferer either. The truth is indeed stranger than fiction. For myself anyhow, I might at best get, say… the odd hour here and there and that’s in a full week, really, wherein my mind and brain is able to relatively relax. But to live with this thing as mentally well as I can is proving, yeah, impossible. As for the ins and outs of this disorder and what it can do to a person’s mind? It’s… inexplicable. I do try and turn-up for all of the things that I possibly can, and maybe if I was able to step away from it for a mere-eager moment for myself and my sanity then I would see how much people might care for me, even with it along for the ride. How much I actually do manage to do for myself and others, too, even with OCD pretty much ruling the roost. I feel for sufferers of any mental illness, of course I do, but this is surely quite like no other. And with an illness as opposed to a disorder, might it be a lot easier just to at least sit back for myself and watch as much telly as I can, to accept I need to be on Disability Welfare more than anyone can imagine, and to, well, accept everything that happens around me and inside of my mind because of it? Does the disorder make me believe that I am in the wrong for all of this thinking? I think so. It’s all in the mind, I get that. I surely do. However, the OCD doesn’t get that, not really even one bit. It takes you over in so many different and excruciating ways. What am I like minus it running amok? Hard as hell to know. How successful could I be and in many aspects of my life, if I literally didn’t believe that disaster is imminent inside of my mind almost all of the time and automatically at that? Walked the boys a little earlier… with my ass on bloody fire. Didn’t feel good to do but I want to help Phil. I need to help Phil as much as I can. And I will continue to do that. But with a brain and mind that is ‘on’ in the most outlandish ways imaginable can make a simple Sunday seem… like arguably the most dangerous day in the world… for me. That’s how it is, and I will still walk and talk with it, and do all that I can to literally live with what has by this stage in my life become an impossible thing. Will I get to feel like myself, ever? I dunno, really, but I do like to try my damn best, and I know that that is in fact something of a miraculous feat in its own right. Just one day for myself might be rather lovely