A Load of Old Bollocks

I am starting to see the light, it is starting to occur to me that these thoughts that march through my mind are exactly that, just thoughts. A thought is different to an action, and thinking something does not equate to doing it.

I have made huge progress with a fear that has gripped me for so long – I am now able to hold a sharp knife in the same room as my brothers. I still have the overwhelming anxiety that comes with the utter certainty that I will kill them, that I am actually a horrible, terrible person and that I have no desire stronger than that of stabbing them to death… but I haven’t done so, and surely that says something?

I suppose this is the point of the exposure therapy – I am testing out the hypotheses that the OCD has forced me to put in to practice, and each time I realise that they are a little more, well, wrong. I have messed up my shoes, and yet nobody has died, I have kissed my brothers just once, and yet they are still all in one piece, I have passed a knife to my mother and yet she is not lying in a pool of her own blood – something is not right here, and I’m starting to think that the bugger that is OCD has been tricking me all along.

I’m starting to think that it’s a load of old bollocks.

Obsessively compulsively yours,

Bellsie