the doctors have been discussing my ocd they’ve been talking about taking it away- about silencing it about quieting it about stopping it. but the thing is, you see, they can’t take away my ocd. my ocd is the language in which i opperate the only way in which i know this world. everything is a numerical pattern everything is a color everything is something everything is my ocd. and yes i will admit, some days it does feel as if it’s killing me. but i know that i need it i know that without it i cannot survive and without it i’m not me. everything involves the ocd and it never stops. i breathe numerically and if not, it threatens me. i have to do it right i have to obey the ocd or it attacks it attacks it attacks. and then it may very well be- the end of me. and this is the painful story of me and my ocd.
heaven knows i wish i could find my way out. i wish it could stop. but it can’t, and i’ve tried. it cannot leave this body. it is the way i live. the way i stay alive. and i am forever it’s host- at least until the day that i die. ilc