Self-satirical outlook on becoming self-aware that I was completely steadfast in my earnest attempts, to be honestly unaware of.

 

 

Ok, so I have OCD, bad OCD. Not the kind of TV sitcom producers and 20-something writers who keep making an uneducated pun or butt of a joke. I’m not anal-retentive like most people with OCD are typecast. I’m in recovery from OCD, every day I battle to stay out of my prison, my head is my prison. I’ve had OCD my whole life. Completely ignorant of my own life. My description of mental illness goes like this.

You wake up in the morning you think you’re looking wonderful, you happen to have a spinach omelet for breakfast, and some reason, you don’t brush your teeth afterward you don’t look in the mirror because you’re fantastic and nothing or no one can stop you. You’re the self-affirmation queen. You are steadfast in your lunacy that you’re ok, there’s nothing wrong, everybody else must feel this bad. You go to work now with this big wad of green spinach in between your two front teeth. Your friends try to give you subtle hints and steadfastly you ignore them. You think they have something wrong with them, some sort of weird tic they’re always scratching their teeth and looking at you and nodding. You hear crowds murmuring about you when you’re walking down the hallway, you know it’s just because they’re jealous. Later for lunch, you have a parsley salad and more green stuff gets caught in your teeth. Then, after lunch, you have the biggest business meeting of your life first president Barack Obama and then Madeleine Albright comes back from the dead just to see how you’re doing, and you think that you are the most fabulous thing that ever happened.

So, your fabulous day ends. You get home and as you take off your jacket, you look at yourself in the mirror and you smile at yourself; thinking “wow what an impressive day you kicked serious ass.” And then you notice the Big Green wad of spinach stuck between your front teeth, the wad of spinach that had been here since breakfast and you think about your day, all the people that you came across all the whispers. The catastrophe of the meeting with President Obama. Madeleine Albright coming back from the dead to see you. And then it’s that moment at that very moment if you’re lucky you realize that you’re sick, not outwardly you don’t have a cold or a broken limb in fact by all appearances’ nobody can see it. But finally, you can, and then you wonder now what I do. The answer is you get better. So mental illness when you are completely sublimely unaware of how dysfunctional you are is like a big wad of spinach in between your teeth. That no one has the guts, and you wouldn’t believe them anyway, to tell you about.