A new day dawns

A new day dawns

Bringing with it a raging

War

Creeping

Up the hill

That is my

Brain.

An internal struggle

That takes place

Daily

Me fighting

For my sanity.

I

Lose some battles

But reign victorious in others

Giving me strength

When there appears to be none.

My

Bones shiver with anxiety

And I sweat with fear.

Who will win

This battle

Against myself and I?

Two sides of the same

Coin

Each fighting

To be alive.

My opponent isn’t a bad character

Not really

It just wants to be alive

And doesn’t everyone?

I slip and fall

My armor clattering to the ground

As my opponent rejoices in my defeat of

This

Epic battle

That never ends.

It looks like I’m finished

But I am not

I shakily stand up and

Pull a Chuck Norris on it.

I am the victor right now, for now. I am the victor for now.

My war does

Not gain

Global coverage

Nor are people

Aware of it.

It’s a silent battle

One I fight alone,

Friends cheering from the sidelines

Waiting for me to crown victory.

But it never ends

The sun sets, the moon rises, the stars sink, the sun rises

And I get out of bed

And go to war with my head.

Not crazy.

My heart pounds

My brain is crowded

The temperature rises forty degrees.

I can’t think, I can’t think, I can’t think.

The teacher continues talking, but I can’t focus, my mind is on the fritz.

My stomach clenches into a tight fist, and doesn’t let go.

Anxiety overwhelms me and I’m left on the shore, unable to drown.

I’ll do anything, at this point, to relieve this anxiety, it’s unbearable. I’m in school, I can’t go home and

check to make sure the door is locked. I know it’s locked, I checked it three times this morning.

But what if my hands told my brain the wrong signal, what if I checked it

the wrong way? What if?

Someone mentions dogs and my mind goes into panic mode. Is the garage door shut? I’m in

math; I can’t go home and check. Did I rub my hands against the garage door? If not, then it was

probably a hallucination and the garage door is wide open

My dogs got out

And they’re dead on the street.

Images flood my mind of their mangled bodies.

I can’t think, I can’t think, I can’t think.

Countless other worries hurry to fill my mind, and I am left, stranded in this terror known as

OCD. The teacher asks me what’s wrong because of the panic

On

My

Face.

I mask my face into a neutral expression, squeeze in a smile.

“I’m fine.” I say.

They move on, and I’m stranded.

Kids stare as I straighten my desk, snicker as I rub my hands just so across

The

Smooth

Surface.

I’m not crazy, I want to scream.

Look at me, I’m not crazy.

My friends look at me, their eyes asking if I’m alright.

I lie and say yes.

I can’t think, I can’t think, I can’t think.

A kid accidentally bumps up against my desk, moving it a centimeter to the left.

I can’t think until this desk is straightened, which takes ten minutes.

I just want this to end, I’ll do anything. I just want

To go

A day

Without

This

Happening.

I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy.

People stare as I rub my hands raw,

As I slam my locker door ten times,

As I move my desk.

I can’t think, I can’t think, I can’t think.

The anxiety builds, and more thoughts crowd my mind.

I pound my fists against my forehead, in an attempt to squish the thoughts.

It doesn’t work.

And then I can’t stop, so I have to hit myself

Ten times

Or else something bad will happen.

I’m not crazy, I just have a disorder

That wants to make me its slave

And appear insane.

My enemy lives inside of me.

For some people

Their nightmares

Only

Exist

In

Sleep.

For others

They face theirs

Every day.

I am one of those people

Who has a demon

Living inside of their brain

Who wants to make me its slave

And dance atop my defeated body.

I will fight back

But my demon is strong

And it never leaves.

Guns and machines

Have no effect

On this demon that lives in my brain.

Logic doesn’t help either

And it rejoices in my pain.

Each day I get up

And am afraid

That I will fail

And I do fail

But not for long

Because my demon is not the only one who can fight.

I am at war with myself

A civil war within my brain

And no one can tell

Because it’s a war

That happens on the inside.

My demon is powerful

And can make me do things

Things that it makes me repeat

Until it drives me to the ground

And dances atop my shoulders.

My demon will never leave

Not really

Because it is made of me

And I am made of it.

Neither can live while the other survives

Truer words were never said.

Demons come in all shapes and sizes.

Mine just happens to be in my head.

No exorcisms will work on me

No magic cure to let me sleep at night

My demon will live

As long as I live

So for a long time

My demon

Will

Not leave its resting place of mockery

Inside my skull.

My brain’s on cocaine.

My brain is on cocaine

Never stopping

Always speeding up.

I’m a rollercoaster that only goes faster

And I want to stop

But the ride never ends.

Some kids get high

To make their brains speed up.

I wish mine would slow down.

The same brain

That lets me speed read, write poetry and novels,

Is the source of my trouble.

I don’t know why

Anyone would want

To make

Their brain

Go awry.

My brain’s on crack

And I can’t do anything about that

Except try to

Slow it down

Enough

So I can

Take control

Of my life again.

My thoughts are powered by Nascar

Thoughts whirl around

At breakneck speed

Circling around

And around

And around

They never stop

Not even at night

When everything else is off

But my thoughts are at daredevil speeds.

I just want to relax

But that’s impossible

When my thoughts cruise through

Only to circle back again.

They’ve made my brain their resting place

And they’re here to stay.

They’re stubborn, too,

And hard to move.

No other car

Can drive so fast

As the ones in my head

Going around my racecar track

Not alone

Every once in a while

I’ll forget I’m not alone

And feel sad

Distraught

Lonely

And Weak

I was never alone

Not really

Three million people

In

This country

Feel as I do

Like sometimes

There’s no light in this world

And no hope

Nothing to wake up for

When you’re a slave

To your brain.

But then I remember

I have friends

Great friends

Who

Are willing to stay up late

Texting or instant messaging

When my disorder is at war with me.

I have friends

Great friends

Who will distract me

By talking about Adam Lambert or Chris Colfer

Or showing me funny photos

Because sometimes I need a distraction

In order

To stay sane

And not die

Because of anxiety.

I have people I’ve never met

In real life

But we help each other

A messy, tangled web

Weaved of people all different ages

And races

Who all share one thing:

We’re OCD

I’m never alone

No, never alone.

Even though

Some nights

When my heart is racing and

I want

To

Cry

I feel like I might die

But I’m never alone,

No, never alone.

More than a Label.

I’m OCD. I say.

As if it’s my whole life

As if

That’s the

Only

Thing I am.

Not a writer, a singer, an artist

But just one thing: OCD.

He’s OCD. They say

Gesturing to

A boy

Enslaved by

His mind

But he’s not

Just OCD

He’s a musician

A gifted one too. A brother a nephew, a son and an uncle

That boy

Is more than OCD.

She’s OCD.

They say

referencing

A girl

who, too, is bound by chains to her mind.

She tries so hard

Every day

To defeat

This disorder

And yet she’s stuck

With

This label

That seems to consume her.

We’re more than just labels,

We’re people too.

We’re not jars in a cabinet,

Or books on a shelves.

We have likes and dislikes,

Favorite foods

And shows

But somehow we

Are stuck

With this label that shows

That we can act crazy

When we’re imprisoned

But we fight hard

And never give up

To try to become

More than the label.

Pills.

One, two,

Swallow them whole

‘cause if you don’t

Your brain will become whacked

Even more so

The serotonin levels are not where they should

Be

Which causes you to

Appear weird

So you swallow these pills

To aide in making it through the day.

But pills don’t do everything

And you have

To work

So hard

The hardest thing in the world

Fighting back

There

Are nights

When you want

To chain yourself

To a wall

Just so you

Will quit scrubbing your hands red

Until blood fills the sink.

So the paint won’t chip

Off your door handle

Which you bought last week

But you check it’s locked so much

That the paint wears off within days.

So you won’t compulsively pray

A slave to your demons

You want to stop more than anything

But you can’t.

There are mornings when you

Can’t get up

Because the day is so scary

Moments when

In class

You can’t talk

Because you have to repeat what you’re going to say

Ten times

Before you say it.

But you hate

Being drugged

And dealing with

The side effects

Of hard-to-swallow pills

But you know

That the other

Option is

Far worse

And so you raise your glass

As you gag on your pills.

Beautiful.

I am beautiful

Every inch of me

My messed up brain

And screwed up colon

My scars on my stomach

And the scoliosis on my back

My braces on my teeth

And the ink stains on my hand

From

Writing

Late into the night.

Every piece of me

Is beautiful

And

No

One can take it away from me.

Made of me.

I fight against myself

My demon is made of me.

A genetic mishap

My demon is made of me.

I can’t kill it

Because it is made of me

And still

I’m sad

Because I’m my own worst enemy.

Doubt.

Doubt is a scary thing

A powerful thing

A demonic thing

Made possible

By evolution.

Everyone has doubt

I take it to an extreme

And am constantly

Questioning things

And not in a good way.

O C D

Those three small letters

They screw up my life all day

Making me crazy.

Diagnosis

You start

Behaving

Strangely

Doing things you can’t resist

And worrying

About

The smallest of things.

Sometime later

Be it weeks or

14 years

You

Sit down

On an examination table

And join the club

Of OCD.

The Club

I belong to an exclusive club

A club I’d rather not

Belong to

A club people join

Not by choice

But

Because they have to.

There are no dues

No secret handshake

No

Oath we say when we join

Almost

Everyone

In the club

Takes pills

Zoloft, Paxil, Luvox, Celexa and more

New drugs coming out of the market promising no side effects

Like Compulsin

Oh and don’t forget Lexapro.

Many of us

Go to therapy

Psychotherapy, ERP, CBT

We’re all around you

Three million of us

In this country

We call home

Neighbors

Classmates

Teachers

People across the street

One in one hundred

Who belong to this club

This club where I fit in.

This club I want to leave.

Stereotypes

The media puts out these stereotypes

Of what people with OCD

Behave like.

The media groups us

And our complex disorders

Until we’re simple: all people with OCD MUST be afraid of germs, all people with OCD MUST count

compusivley.

It’s gotten to the point

Where I’m afraid

To say

What I am

Because people think they

Understand it

When they don’t.

You’re Not OCD.

You

The girl who claims she’s OCD when

She sorts her M&M’S.

You’re not OCD.

You

The boy

Who jokingly calls his friends OCD

Because they

Are perfectionists.

They’re not OCD.