I need to write this about my mental illness for it to, please God, help someone else somewhere, including myself because, well, today and kinda all weekend I have been in mental free-fall. Three days filled with about two months worth of thoughts only nearly all of them wasteful. People with OCD will go to a level of mental anguish so paralysing and still attempt to bounce back. How do we do that part, bounce back? Well, I suppose by… trying as ever to not entertain the OCD. The OCD, which has seemingly taken up ungodly residence inside of our heads and for all of a lifetime. An OCD sufferer’s themes will have been wrapped-up in all sorts of subjects and situations that they’ll have experienced over the years and decades of their lives. All sorts of… experiences that have happened before them. All warped into utterly abstract understanding, like no one’s business. For me, my main OCD theme has made that very thing disordered and, therefore, petrifyingly distorted inside of my mind and much more-so even when I incur something, anything to do with my theme. If I don’t touch the theme, am I ok? Nope, not really. Just automatically bracing myself for another onslaught the closer I go to it. And if it’s not that then it’s just a mental imbalance… searching for… “what the hell is wrong??!!” And I mean ANYTHING ALONG ITS LINES. For OCD sufferers the part we really cannot get our heads around, it seems, in trying to even accept wholly is the part wherein all of the imbalance and onslaught of theme’s thoughts etc. truly has us believing much, much more than one hundred percent that… catastrophe HAS happened. IS happening. Not just WILL happen because, well, that’s all in the future tense and ahead of anything else we can really hope to mentally affect. Be it we sitting down having a coffee with a friend, whatever, that stuck-over-time, livid, seething mental belief/certainty that catastrophe IS happening makes a very tiny to almost-no-part-of-our-mind actually trust in the fact, surely, that there is still even a day to be lived ahead of us. Let alone to get a chance at incurring real emotions, one after another. To even so much as instrumentally get to learning from them all as we go along. I have to tackle this, and I have to stay with these notes through thick and thin. Yeah, for myself more than anything else because this can be the most painful and frightening mind-prison imaginable. Even if it is all that I really know of, that in itself becoming its own warped sort of mental comfort. It has been that for me and in ways which really do go against absolutely EVERYTHING a brain and mind should get to stand for. I mean, surely the OCD sufferer’s brain and, therefore, mind and their imagination have each of them been alarmingly provoked into overdrive and pretty much all of the time? And what might that mean? The part of a mind which can conjure up all sorts of stories for a person, be they scary or otherwise, is ALWAYS ON and ALWAYS trying to find a calm somewhere inside of its head, for the sufferer. Is that where the unstoppable mental belief that catastrophe IS happening comes from for the sufferer, then? I can only assume so. And I have dived inside of my head, even amidst it all going on, a million times quite literally and tried to stay upright in a mental instance long enough to try and see what the hell is actually happening with our brains. Perhaps I don’t need to know but I sure as hell want to let others know because, well, I can fall away into No-Man’s Land even when no-one else will have a clue this thing is happening. Not even myself, if that makes any sense. Which, really, it shouldn’t to a non-sufferer, I guess. Not properly anyhow. Our brains have been hijacked and taken to a level of mental task so abstract and so very… pummeling and distorting that we cannot rely on our own brains at all, really. So what we do get to try and do is to live a life as well as we possibly can, even with this ungodly thing along for the ride of a lifetime. It’s… preposterous what it does to us. Preposterous how it can affect everything that happens before us. So, trust me, to sit still with it really is something of a livid, seething miracle of the mind. Why? Because NO-ONE should have to contend with what Obsessive Compulsive Disorder does to a human’s brain. With the thousands of different ways that it can manage to take our minds with it and all in the space of no real time at all. All in an automatic search for a calm that just doesn’t appear to be there, or at least not in anywhere near a strong enough instance. We try because, really, we have no other choice in the matter, except for also trying atop of THAT in actually gaining more than just a relative balance to it all, as in crossing our fingers and wishing to **** to live a proper and normal, unprovoked life for ourselves, even. Nothing is easy for an OCD sufferer, and if it is, then let us, please God, bathe in that moment in time. That last part is actually more-so suited to something that we tell ourselves because that is what it is, a battle with one’s own bonkers brain almost all of the time. And to take it on truly is akin to David versus Goliath.