OCD

You need to read this. A couple words exactly, that’s all it will take. I’ve granted your wish, but for those who’ve attacked me… What a grave mistake. I’m called “obsessive”. I’m calling “being compulsive”, with “fake disorder”. Repeat my order; turn door knobs multiple times; write haikus in rhymes. My PTSD, along with my OCD. I just cannot win.

Where do I begin? This imitation of “real”, and wounds that won’t heal. My daily struggle. Everything is a puzzle. Life is not a breeze. You mock me and tease. Poking fun at all my quirks. There’s no cure that works. I want normalcy. Swap places with me and see. I am so jealous. I can’t repel this. Every day it’s the same thing. It’s overwhelming. My beautiful curse. Thoughts about me can’t get worse. It’s not what it seems. Still living my dreams. This disease won’t control me, or any of us.

It is not a crutch, merely a bump in the road. Beautiful and bold. We still live full lives. Hiding our flaws to survive. We’ve survived our “gifts”. Some compulsive fits. Our numbers grow stronger still, no taking that pill. Dreams high as POTUS. Sometimes going unnoticed. We stand together. Awkward and clever. You’ll never defeat the “we”… Fuck you OCD.

Nathalie, thank you so much for letting me use this picture for this post!