Way I see it now I am surviving with this thing. It’s lonesome, for sure. But it’s also a million other things. A million other hot-wired thoughts all in one day. My themes: ending up homeless and now, also… … dying. This is just what an OCD brain can drag a person through and utterly unwillingly. It’s always on and it will one hundred percent always be OCD that is doing this to your brain. Maybe I should be utterly fucking proud beyond words to have gotten this far with something which really has wrapped its grasp around me in the most layered ways mentally imaginable. I continue on because, well, it’s been too long in the tooth for me to know and do anything else with it. An imbalance, and a God-awful one at that. Falling right back into prearranged mental distortions every other day regarding any sort of situation I seem to enter. That’s… impossible. Only it has to be possible because the opposite of possible is indeed impossible and way I see it, even if it did in fact die – one of my OCD themes now as well – wouldn’t that actually mean my not having to be so very fucking catastrophically stuck like this all the time? And I accept that happening too. I accept everything. I accept the bewildering nature of it all, I accept the ten thousand plus stifled poem-pieces I have forced myself to write whilst all of it has been happening all along. I accept my mind and personality having been utterly thrown to the dogs nearly all of the time. I accept that my mind cannot even accept that it is OCD the moment I am, in fact, beginning to feel some sense of a mental calm. That’s a helluva lot of shit going on for a mind when, really, it shouldn’t be doing this thing to itself whatsoever.