OCD Hell

Having OCD is torture. Being compelled to do things you don’t want to do is like being mentally flayed. It sucks your soul by sucking your will. Real Brett is thinking I love my poetry class the most. OCD Brett is thinking I can’t be here. He has no rhyme or reason for his stupid thoughts. But he wins every debate because to not listen means overwhelming anxiety. My OCD suddenly decided I can’t sit in poetry. I am crushed because it is literally my favorite. I have no idea why it suddenly settled on that.

And that’s the horror of it. There is no logical reason for any of the things it settles on. Yet it dictates everything. I am devastated about poetry. I think that the OCD is actually worse than not being able to talk now that I can type. It is endless torment.