To take time off writing would be an epic and nice and definitely surprising thing for me to actually achieve. I keep getting back on Instagram and writing another piece. I think I’m all in, of course I am. With the writing, But it really is for no one else but myself, so I’m really gonna have to try and drop the Instagram posts. It’s tiring and, also.. brilliant fun to try and achieve what I aim to do with each next piece. I’ve achieved plenty in so far as the writing goes. For myself, even more than I imagined. With the rhythm and what not. But I’ve got a far bigger and larger fight to deal with with regards the ocd. It’s inclined to destroy me, it really is. I didn’t ever want to post stuff about it but it’s… frightening to a point of very little actual time with my own uninterrupted state of mind because the ruminating is all that I know. I literally am not able to naturally think of anything else but for it. So the loudness and main story that is the ocd sprinting through my mind will both seriously and profoundly need to be stopped, somehow. But, then, I’ve done everything. Everything I can possibly imagine having to do. I’m petrified and tired and hate that this is a part of me. There is, as ever, only one way through it, and that is by somehow letting everything pass, however mentally anguishing that may be. That’s all I was ever told to do, what I was taught to do, and I definitely cannot afford to let it entertain my mind anymore. Because I certainly do not entertain it. Never did and never wanted to. I’m barely surviving on a mental note. Barely. I really hope I can get to that state of balance because… living with this isn’t really any kind of living, in truth.