Tag: OCD

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I don’t like myself this way

The older I get, the more eccentric I am becoming. Me on vacation at a Centre Parcs… I can’t sleep because I can’t stop thinking about how many unclean people slept in the same bed. I can’t sit on the couch because of the people who sat there before me and what did they do? I have to wash all the dishes and glasses because… Ew! And the shower and toilet… Help!! I was never this bad with my OCD. And I am annoying myself. I cannot make it go away, and it makes everyone around me go crazy. Me too. Thinking about all the people who spent time in that house… It drives tears to my eyes. It makes me nervous. It makes me nauseous. And I cannot fight it. I have to wash my hands all the time. I am unwell, and I don’t know what is happening to me. I just know that it is not good. And I don’t want to take this erratic behaviour home with me.

2 more days… I hate this vacation. It is not relaxing at all…

C

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Life between clouds and feathers – saviour (8)

Thomas hurries up the steps and reaches for the potted plant in front of Connor’s door. The key is still there. Of course it is. Thomas takes it out of the small plastic container and quietly opens the door. He can hear the water in the bathroom, but nothing else. The apartment is neat and tidy. Everything is arranged in a certain angle and organised by colours. Very Connor. On the coffee table is a note. It would worry Thomas, if he didn’t know the truth. Connor is not dying. He is not successful with killing himself. He can’t be. At least not with the pills that he has in his house and which aren’t fatal in high doses. Thomas knocks at the bathroom door. Connor is sitting on the floor trying to mop up water with wet towels. His movements are frantic and he is constantly sniffling. Tears are on his cheeks. Thomas steps past him and turns off the tap. “Connor, I order you to stop!” he says in a stern voice. He wishes that he could pull Connor in his arms, but that is not how Connor is wired. Connor is different than most people. Special. Connor looks up. There is defiance in his eyes, but he drops the wet towel with a splash and gets up. His clothes are dripping wet. “Strip! Remove the wet clothes.” Another order Connor tries to obey, but the fabric clings to his skin and getting it off is harder than anticipated. Connor exhales audibly when he folds the wet clothes and puts them on the lid of the toilet.
“Why?” he whispers. And Thomas knows that it is time to speak. “I switched all your meds because I was scared this would happen soon. You took vitamins. Nothing dangerous.” Connor shakes his head. “I will always be there to catch you. Even when you push me away. I promise not to hurt you anymore. Here, let me help you.” Thomas takes a fresh towel and reaches is out to Connor. Connor doesn’t take it. “May I?” Thomas asks. He waits for a consenting nod and begins to rub Connor’s skin in soothing circles. “Everything is okay. You are safe,” he whispers. To Connor’s surprise, he believes Thomas. And there are no conflicting thoughts in his mind about it. At least not for now.

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Life Between Clouds and Feathers – Clouds and Feathers (1)

He is living a life between clouds and feathers. Some days, his heart is free as a bird and light as a feather. Some days, his hearts is dark as a storm and heavy as a raincloud. Moods change as often as the hand of fate touches his soul. Every moment is loved and lived. Relived and perceived as hell. Where is he supposed to go from here? And more importantly; how did he get here? He whispers these questions during the day. He screams the same words in his dreams. His lonely existence is in vain. But without him, this earth is an empty place. Heavy as a cloud, light as a feather. If his mind were a bird, it would have left its cage a long while ago. As it is, his mind is embedded in a grey cloud.