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  • Writer's picturefollowingflamingos

Dear unwelcome guest

Updated: Aug 5, 2020

To the new visitor in my mind and memory but no longer in my life. Yes. You are right, I do need help. Your timing is impeccable but I won’t let you shame me into silence.

The O in OCD means obsessive, including about getting well. I also have great attention to detail and unfortunately this gives me an amazing memory for your unsolicited opinions on how I live my life.

It takes strength to be honest and talk about my mental health and illness, it is not a weakness, and it has taken me decades to be able to do this. I know that understanding and accepting my diagnosis doesn’t make me more unhealthy, it means I can get the right help. You know it is a massive part of my recovery that I am open about my struggles.

You dismiss my pain and deny my experience as if judge and jury. You know exactly what to say to cause the most pain. You explode and deliver judgement when I take cover and you patronise and ignore when I tell you this hurts.

I can only conclude that you take my faith and trust in you and see this as a way to hurt me, as you are hurting, projecting motives onto my behaviour, which in fact has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.

Yes. I do prefer the support of friends to your unasked for ‘home truths’. Can you blame me?

I can never agree with your assumptions about me all of which you make abundantly clear. To each their own. I am not perfect and I am not always going to behave the way you see fit. Perhaps you struggle to condemn the behaviour not the person? Interestingly I still refrain from dissecting your life the way you have mine. Perhaps I don't need to.

As I see it, being a kind person is not the same as placing others' opinions and wishes above your own at all costs and living our life through others' eyes. If this means you think me a hypocrite for not inviting your further comment and drawing a line, so be it.

As our dialogue continues I feel it's impact won’t be magicked away with time or any illusion of closure. I guess things can't be unsaid and we can’t change the past. Noisy and intrusive, thanks in part to my illness your voice now masquerades as my own. Doubt. Maybe it is all my fault and I do deserve it all?

But something has changed and I have hope. I will find a way to deal with the echoes without losing my true self .

The best way I know how is writing this and offering a compassionate good bye and good luck to the ether.

I am done here.

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