Good Morning from Northern Ireland. I saw this on Twitter last night and shamelessly pilfered it. Apologies to all concerned but this is OCD in a nutshell. OCD is voracious, forever hungry and on the prowl for its next meal. It will suck you dry, bleed you out. It is cruel, merciless and without pity. It revels in our misery, it’s ability to turn our days, worlds and lives upside down at the flick of a switch, the press of a button. It knows us inside out and back to front. It will rip you apart.
The compulsions are overwhelming and even now, writing about the topic, I can feel a ripple of unease stirring in my stomach. I’ve scratched the surface, poked the bear, dangled my leg in the lion’s cage. Remain too long and it will drag me in, maul and ravage my body and soul. So this will be fleeting visit, a mere toe dipped in the cesspit of the obsessive thought and corresponding compulsive act. Another paragraph, maybe two, but that is all.
Why do you do it then, some might ask? Why place yourself in the danger zone, pop your head above the parapet? You blog about OCD, tweet about OCD, you’ve even written a flipping book where the main character has OCD. Aren’t you tempting fate, heading for a fall? And sometimes I agree with those voices. But then I remember, when I was at my lowest I craved knowing I was not on my own. That there were others out there who shared my pain, who understood.
So I’ll shout it from the rooftops, even though the drop below is terrifying. I’ll keep coming back for more, no matter how battered and bloodied I am from the last encounter. I’m not a survivor but I’m surviving. I need to tell my story now just like I needed someone to tell me theirs all those years ago. It is a responsibility I will not shirk and I encourage you all to do the same. Expose your scars in order to exorcise the demons that still lurk in the shadows.