Saturday, June 29, 2019

OCD Obsessive Compulsive Disorder Still torturing Me at age 71

I'm sitting here so miserable with really nothing to be miserable about accept the Obsessive Compulsive disorder I suffer from which is raging non-stop through my defective brain like a California wildfire. 

Oh, man, does this hurt. Not a physical pain in my body either. Just the same mental torment my 71 year old body has been suffering from since I used to sweat profusely all over my pillow when I was a little boy. You see, I could not rest until I lined that pillow up perfectly in a certain position and perfectly might not come for an hour or two.

So, much has changed externally in all these years but internally its the same torture chamber that only opens up if I act out in some insane way to relieve the obsessive demons. Unfortunately, acting out is at best short term relief or, in the alternative, no relief at all, only making my OCD worse. 

Intellectual understandings of mental illness does nothing to relieve the pain. Ask any nut like me. 
So, I understand why I need to go punch a brutally tough kick boxer even though I know I will get my ass destroyed at best and end up handicapped or dead. At least the urge to fight this animal will go away so I will not have to live with the fear of anticipating this absolutely unnecessary fight.

 But, another equally bad or worse obsession will be born quickly and live in the glorious rent free utopia of my mind while keeping its foot over any joy or peace I try to find.

I know, I know, the answer lies close to me always in my thoroughly therapy saturated brain. All the dynamic psychological cognitive brain tricks I've learned give me a little peace occasionally. But mostly I stay in OCD hell no matter what. 
Don't cry for me Argentina. 

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