With OCD, I have always had some interesting, if obvious, obsessions. Things like winking at people, or tapping my elbow. Things that are only obvious to me, like cleaning the kitchen floor with a toothbrush (because there are cracks between the boards). But there are some sneaky ones. Devious little bastards. I’ve got a good
There are days where everything smells like feces. There are also days when milk smells good to me. These are rare, but have a simple cause. Every year I spend about 6 total months dealing with allergies. My nose bleeds 2-3 times a day, and my only option is to get a steroid shot every
First of all, I want to say “afraid” is a strong term for this topic. I want people to be aware of what actually happens in the world. Secondly, this is a graphic post. Language and content are adult here, not for kids. You may even hate me a little afterwards. You have been warned.
First of all, I’m doing NaNoWriMo this year. For the month of November, I’ll be working on my novel a LOT. This may mean my posts here are a little spare sometimes, but I promise I will still make this blog a priority. Secondly, I hate my brain. This morning I had nightmares about me
Recently I was contacted by Jonathan Looper, the writer and producer of the short film “My Only Son” and feature film “Light Wounds – the true story of a childhood friend and his battle during the onset of schizophrenia.” He has asked my to post the following article on his behalf, and I totally think it’s a great
I fucking hate anxiety. It lies. It takes cheap blows. It makes life no fun. If you’ve read my last several posts, you know that I’ve been doing well with the anxiety and OCD lately. I knew it couldn’t last. The other night we had friends over for our weekly game night. It was pretty
Yup, I cried. Sometimes, this is all we need. Glad this came up on my feed!
Okay, so I have a problem with this. Can you guess what it is? “We’re not always worth loving.” BULLSHIT. I have been in so many situations where I wasn’t treated with the love I deserved, because I was convinced I didn’t deserve it. I have been beat up by “good men.” I have been
Cleaning. More cleaning. Sorting. More Sorting. Un-stack boxes, take stuff out of one box. Put it in another box, stack those boxes. There has just been so much cleaning/organizing going on around our house. It feels pretty awesome most of the time, but it leaves me so damned drained. It’s weird, though. A year ago, I
Jenny and I had dinner with some friend-type people we don’t know very well last night, and it was great. However, we found ourselves in that awkward why-doesn’t-someone-say-something-here stage several times. So, I did what I always do: I talked. No, I talked. You might have noticed (by reading all this stuff) that I always have
