*EDIT* Added a mature content warning for the mentions of self-harm, just in case. Nothing in there is that bad, to be honest, but I would rather stay on the safe side.  

Ehm, if I worried any of my watchers with this post—I am sorry. I promise you, I'm fine. This is actually quite a few years old, written immediately after an anxiety attack. The purpose was to document my feelings of fear and confusion and how I kept struggling and running. Sometimes, during my attacks, random insecurities and vulnerabilities pop up.
It was therapeutic to write everything down. Fortunately attacks are rare, though, like my poetry, so there is only this one thing. 

I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and while it is under control for the most part, it still looms like a hissing, smiling phantom in the back of my mind, ready to rear its ugly head. The decision to post this was brought about by a recent near-relapse following a vicious and emotionally-taxing argument with a (now former) friend. (I don't mind talking about it, if you're curious.) For one frightening moment, it seemed I was going to lose control to the bad thoughts again, but it's alright. Another friend was there to help me pull through, and I recalled writing this. 

Poetry is not my strong point by any means, but I've chosen to post it because I don't want to forget, and putting this out there helps me remember. 

Thank you for reading. Again, I am fine. Letting go of my ex-friend was strangely elating. 
Frae