MY PERSONAL STORY OF CRIPPLING OCD RUINING MY LIFE
David struggles to emerge from the giant bed that takes up about half of his studio apartment at the top of an old, stately, classy building on Chicago's lakefront. This sixty nine year old tall, grey haired, fair skinned Jewish guy struggles to get his arthritic and chronically pain ridden body out of that big bed that he often lies in for unconscionable amounts of time to escape the ferocious obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) that torments him. David is happy today. Many days he is rendered entirely helpless in his otherwise healthy body, his OCD forcing him to lie in bed completely oblivious to anything other then the torment raging in his brain. He hardly exists. He usually stares at the ceiling thinking and thinking continually about something he is afraid to do but must. Today, he feels relief. He has a clear mind in so far as not needing to do something scary to relieve an irrational OCD demand. Today, he just feels depressed and helpless about his mise...