there comes a point, where i wonder if my OCD is becoming narcissistic. in fact, i've become really selfish and insensitive at times. my brothers come out of the bathroom and i tell them to wash their hands (they're 15 and 22). i have no patience for anyone who has similar compulsions to my own. i'm downright rude sometimes if i'm feeling too uncomfortable or anxious. i've become better at surpressing my compulsions, but that just makes me panic. slowly, as the years have gone by, i start to tell myself things….. that people don't die from the things i so desperately try to control. it mostly comes down to the same idea, the same feeling. i just feel dirty, and it's not a simple matter of what happened in my childhood. knowing the root of your problem is lightyears from a solution. i physically feel dirty and ill when i feel out of control. when i am having a particularly bad day, i try to think about hurting myself. i hate blood, and i could never kill myself. it's more the idea of focusing and obsessing on physical pain, normal, physical, normal….

i don't think any of my friends really grasp it anymore. it's been so bad on this trip to see my dad, because i'm out of my routine. both my brothers are throwing up from both ends and it makes me crazy. it's amazing how quickly my focus changes from one fear to another.

i wonder if they dissected the brains of obsessive compulsive people, measured the stress of their limbs, tore the wrinkles from our faces, the knots in our necks….

i used to be such a carefree personal underneath all of this. i can see myself dim.

i'm not grey. but that's all i see anymore. grey, and bright, hostile red.