So I finally talked to a good friend about the type of OCD I have.  I have told people before about my OCD, but never really went into detail about the type and how its affected my life.  It’s funny, because before really going into depth about the disorder, my friend told me he didn’t think I had OCD, just quirks.  I guess I didn’t realize how good I was at hiding it.  I explained to him about pure-o and how it controlled my life.  I told him about the thoughts, how often I have them, and my personal compulsions.  He was really suprised at how serious it was.  I told him how awful I felt at times.  How sometimes I wished for the tractor trailer to swerve just a little over the line and take me out.  I told him how stressful I felt, how anxious, scared, and embarrassed.  I explained to him why I haven’t been able to tell anyone, get help.  I told him everything I thought I had to keep secret.  I don’t know what has come over me this past week.  I would have never fathomed revealing such intimate details of myself before, but for some reason, I have find myself in a new place.  A healthier place.  All I want is to share my story with those that love me, seek help and support, and move on.  I’m so tired of feeling like I don’t deserve the best out of life.  I know the next step is to talk to a professional, but that will have to wait.  Joining this site and telling a friend were two giant steps for me and right now I’m going to let that all settle in.  I am excited though for the next steps to come.  I can feel the walls crumbling down inside.  I can feel myself starting to let go of that guilt and shame I’ve been carrying.  He told me I wasn’t a bad person, and to my suprise, his concern and care broke me down.  I let myself be vulnerable.  I cried.  I was accepted even with this terrible disease.