I Didn’t Think I Could Have OCD Because I Had A Messy Home
I’m writing this because I have OCD, and I’m bitter as hell about it.
A writer with a habit to overshare
I’m writing this because I have OCD, and I’m bitter as hell about it.
It was a Tuesday, which felt kind of odd—I mean shouldn’t calling your ex be reserved for your drunk Saturday nights instead of your Tuesday afternoons?
In a few months, I’d tell myself, my body might look a lot different. And maybe then I’d love it.
I am finally unlearning all of that and instead, slowly learning that life doesn’t have to be a battle verses only myself.
We’re in love. But we’re young. So let’s meet again some day.
Humans are resilient.
You don’t have to keep it all bottled up, and you don’t have to cage yourself in instead of letting yourself break free.
You’re a human who has made a difference in the world, whether you realize it or not.