Finally, after years of struggle, I face one of my primordial teachers. I had refused to learn all it's lessons then. I think I'm ready now. Stronger to resist the pull of the current it uses to see if you drown or survive. I choose survive. Some days I do go down. Many days I have. A lot of days I have to just float. I refuse to sink. The journey seems endless but I know there's hope. I will search for it, ask for help, share something deep and painful of myself with souls like you who understand exactly why it's so hard to write about this without a torn and somewhat disheveled heart.

We are survivors. Warriors of the mind in avery literal sense. I want to know what it's like not to go through this alone. Not to hide or just hear, all the time, by ignorant, well-meaning others the words:"Well, everyone is a little OCD." or "Everyone's a little kwirky". How can I look them in the eye and straight out say, "This is no quirk. I am mentally ill and it devours my existence at times and inthis vast chasm of despair I have found my own Light but it's still hard to not fall and I must always be vigilant."?

Do you get me? Do you feel, inside you, that I speak of our journey? I want to know what it's like for others… I want to dive into the river and find those who also sometimes float while the rest of the swimmers seems to swimm so much faster. Maybe they don't but it sure seems like it for us! Those that feel the ache in their bones and soul but still find time to share who they are. You, fellow survivor, fellow warrior, fellow butterfly!

Let's talk. Let's journey onward, together, authentically, in acceptance, in struggle, with tears, with joy, with confusion and wisdom, but above all, being able to laugh, for at least I find that humor does help us obssesives, time and time again and again, and again, and again, and again… ;)!