By the time I finish writing this post, I imagine the time will be past 3:30am GMT. The rain is pitter-pattering on the window, with an occasional louder thud hitting the windowsill and diverting my attention, albeit briefly, from my current existential crisis.
Recently, my life has taken a dramatic turn for the worse. Over the past few months, my mental state has deteriorated alongside my physical appearance and my social skills have become almost defunct. I am becoming a shell again, lost to myself and drifting in this fantasy land, concocted by my delusions and self-disgust. I WISH YOU WOULD ALL JUST FUCK OFF! Screaming into the night without making a sound, not even a croak in my throat. Nobody understands, nobody’s walked in my shoes, seen the world through my eyes, played the hand I’ve been dealt. People say they do, and they mean well of course. But it’s small consolation when in the early hours of the morning, I’m lying here thinking just how painfully tragic my life is. There is so much I want to do but I feel like it is impossible, like I’ve failed before I’ve even tried, which only fuels the fire of discontent and misery.
In any situation where a leader is needed, I seem to step up and take charge. Yet, in my own life, behind my steering wheel, I can’t take control. I wish I could grab myself by the bollocks and tell this fucking fear inducing illness to get fucked and give me my life back but I can’t. I feel totally powerless. And it sucks. I want to help people, I want to let them know that they are strong enough and that they can get better. But how can I do that when I can’t even help myself?! I feel like a fraud, a hypocrite. A salesmen that wouldn’t purchase his own wares but is happy enough to peddle them off to other people, believing wholeheartedly that he is doing the right thing.
OCD is Ophiocordyceps unilateralis and I am the Camponotus leonardi ant (Google it, it’s quite a scary yet fascinating thing). It is like a fungi taking over my brain and controlling me, and I am a mere servant of its every will and desire. I am a frightened little lamb being sent to the slaughter. However, in this [fairy] tale, the slaughter becomes almost any task, be it washing my hands, eating, drinking, urinating, showering, going outside, driving my car, brushing my teeth, pretty much EVERY FUCKING THING IN THE WORLD. And I’m sick and fucking tired of living like this. I don’t want to die, because there is so much I want to do and see but I’ve forgotten how to live, and I need some help finding my way again.