Not Your Victim

 Dear Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, You have me on the edge of my seat shaking my head to rid myself of unwanted thoughts. My mind is a race because of you. It is a race against time; against all the odds to beat you before you try to conquer me. You are the ugly voices in my head that never disappear. The sounds that whisper in the day and scream as I finally rest my head on my pillow and all has turned to silence. You have created a monster out of me. If I do not perform my compulsions precisely as you ask of me, the images you produce inside my head, you say, will one day become a reality. You want to steal my family and my friends. The ultimatums you have set are unjust and cruel. Shake my head thirty-five times. Look at the clock every two minutes to make sure the numbers add up correctly. Touch every photo on my wall eighteen times each. Flick the light switch on and off to the point that I nearly start a fire. And do all of this without having the negative images inside my mind. Otherwise, I will repeat it all once again.OCD, you are the definition of Hell. You are the demons that lurk inside my head, producing thoughts and provoking images that I would never dream upon anyone. You hurt me physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and it is time you go to rest. My life is unfolding before my eyes. The eyes that see sunsets, not flames. The eyes that look at my family and friends and see joy, not pain. You are trying to create something out of nothing. When my eyes see happiness, you try and find a reason for them to recognize the hate. You want me to hate the world and everyone inside of it. That way, I won’t have to hurt from the fear of losing them.OCD, I feel your pain, and I understand the fear of losing control. But it’s only because of you, OCD, that you are suffering. You are creating your own path to destruction. These images, voices, and compulsions you are organizing to prevent the bad from happening, only make the good times fade away. You are so engulfed in the idea of what could happen, that you never take a step back and admire the beauty life is presenting you within the moment. It hurts me to know that you’re still there, inside of my head. You are like a tumor that will not be cured by surgery. You have to step it up, work on yourself, and observe what is happening in front of you. You’ve latched onto me like a leech, controlling my every move. In the past, it was easier to let you control me rather than fight the sensations you produced. But today, OCD, you will be put to rest.I recognize that you are hurting, but hurting me too is not the solution. You need to unlatch yourself from my brain and my being and set yourself free. Experience the world in a positive light. Embrace the present time you are in and do not; I repeat DO NOT, waste this time dreading the future. Today is your life, and quite possibly your only one. Don’t waste it. Sincerely,  Not Your Victim 

This poem is about: 
Me

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