More pictures during the storm yesterday. This is our city.
Since posting about my OCD, a few people have asked about its pervasiveness in my life. I think everyone must understand how difficult it is to describe your own experience of normal. But what I'd like to say is that more than any compulsion, what I often notice are the obsessions. A few times a day I'll have a thought that my mind didn't conjure and that I don't claim as my own, but it sticks with me, and uses the faculties of OCD to repeat and repeat. I know I worry more than I ought to, and I know worrying is a common downfall. But what's most disturbing about these thoughts is that I really don't recognize their voice. I can't describe it any other way.
It is very relevant, however, because since childhood, the best way for me to open the hatch and force those thoughts out has been to write ... on napkins, journals, blogs or receipts. I never feel more trapped than the times I'm stranded without a pen.
and write so well you do.
ReplyDeletei love that, i wish i had figured out much earlier that writing is a great comfort to me.
i know what you mean about the voice not feeling your own. when i used to have the urge to binge it was as though something inside me (that was not me and not of me) was forcing me to do it. awful.
keep on keepin on. you're amazing.
and man oh man am i craving a good rain storm!