This post is just serving as a journal entry for me, so don’t feel the need to respond, but if you do, thank you! Today was an incredibly difficult day, I have into compulsions again, I hate when I do, my brain convinces me that it’ll help me but it leaves me feeling like absolute garbage. Today was a bad day, even though my mom didn’t go to work today, which usually makes me happy because them I’m not home alone all day. She was taking care of my step dad, he had really bad heart burn last night and apparently couldn’t breathe, I think it’s called GERD, but he seems better today, but most of her attention was focused on making sure he was okay. I hate how selfish I feel, even though he actually needed help and watched today, I was still wanting to talk with my mom and have her attention. I hate OCD, I used to be able to just hangout in my room all day and not have to constantly be around my mom. But my anxiety has been flaring so much. POCD, Real Event, and False Memory are a horrible combination. I’m still terrified of what I saw weeks ago earlier in November. It’s left me mortified and scarred. No amount of reassurance has been able to help me, not from the suicide hotline, not from my mom, and not from my friends. I feel horrible and don’t know how I’m going to make until the end of the month. I just need to wait until January 1st before my insurance can cover any therapy sessions, so I have to wait. I’m looking into making a session with a general therapist just so I have someone to talk to this month. My past decisions, from when I was younger are haunting me, and again, reassurance has stopped working. I’m at a point where I feel like I’m ready to give up. But I could never put more pain into my moms heart. I wish I had someone in real life to talk to about OCD, someone who actually has it themselves and understands the pain that comes with it. I feel so alone, but I also really feel as if I don’t deserve help. I still want to isolate from the world, or banish myself from society as a whole. And as much as I know how cheesy or ridiculous that sounds, it’s the only thing that seems to make sense to me. I’m tired of compulsions, they don’t reduce my anxiety at all, maybe they did before, but now it just seems like these compulsions are self destructive and it’s my brain wanting to punish or destroy me. I’ve lost all motivation to do anything, I can’t even do chores without feeling incredibly torn down and defeated, I just sit around all day ruminating, or scrolling mindlessly through social media to just distract myself, I do nothing productive. This semester is almost over, so at least that weight will be lifted a little bit. I’m just done. Hopefully tomorrow’s journal entry is a little bit more brighter or hopeful, but I doubt it. I suppose these journal entries mainly serve just to let my thoughts out, and maybe read back on them someday to remember or for whatever reason I’ll need them. I’m gonna go take out my trash bins and then get into bed, everyone is asleep right now and it’s barely about to be 10 here. I feel like such scum and waste of time.