Tonight I go to Bandon with Comsey for a sweet night-out. Should be fun, will be fun, but the OCD WILL try and derail my momentary mind and my own thoughts into, well, trying to figure-out what’s wrong – imbalance propelling all of this, of course. I can’t let it do that. I may well have a hangover tomorrow and that is ok, really, so long as I’m able to not be… caught in limbo with the OCD. I have come so very far. Outlandishly so, in fact. And I wanna eventually get to feel that sense of personal success, how it feels to truly understand JUST what you did with your brain and mind to be okay. I’m all in, as per usual, and I will continue to observe people and create the seen-to-be unputdownable scribbles to many. That’s a given in so far as my mind wants to just feel the right kinds of things, normal ‘triggers’ and normal kinds of thoughtful things, I guess, which might make me naturally anxious or whatever other feelings I end up entertaining and on a natural level. Naturally anxious is fine by me. Obviously naturally anything is absolutely fine by me. Although, naturally anxious is… not really a thing I understand all that much, either, but I’m sure I will get to do that at some point in my life. But how does an OCD sufferer go through it all – that imbalance of brain – and remain… right here and right now? Well, I suppose by doing EVERYTHING THAT I’VE DONE UP ‘TIL RIGHT NOW ACTUALLY: Let your mind find its own way without entertaining the pulsating imbalance. It’s not pulsating right now, thankfully, and that is, of course, down to me fighting for that relaxed state of mind, and brain, as best I can. And I even overlook that success most of the time, such is the level of OCD-time my mind ends up unwillingly entertaining. But it is certainly not giving my mind… the ability to know that this is just another night-out, that it’s just another Friday, and I’ve done everything any normal-minded person does. Minded Saoirse this morning. Also looked after Ciara during the week in the city whilst Coman took Saoirse to the hospital with her arm. Written a lot of scribbles today – three, four poems, maybe? I dunno, and I don’t care how many at all, but I do know how different and rhythmically good they all are. I’ve always found my way with the scribbles, perhaps in the exact same way I have always wanted to find my mind’s way amidst the OCD. Without… mind-distorting interruption and, in that particular instance, the level of inevitable and outlandish anxiety that comes with it. 😊