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Look, this is an article that’s been coming for a long time – since I started writing the OCDiaries series, about living with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, I knew that I would eventually write something about the “I’m just SO OCD!” nonsense. There’s no way for me to put this out there without someone assuming that I’m trying to subtweet them in some passive-aggressive blogular fashion, but honestly, I’m not attempting to call out anyone in particular. If you think this is about you, it’s probably not – but you could probably do with it, anyway.
Hi, I’m Lou, and I had a great childhood!
I’m gaining weight.
Which is a neutral statement, really. Hell, even a positive one: I have more energy, I’m fitter, my skin is clearer.
But I don’t like it.
Trigger warning for discussions of sexual harassment and eating disorders.
So, a few months ago, I wrote An Insomniac’s Guide to Insomnia. And, with everything going in the world right now, I figured that it’s only time that I come down from on high to deliver to you my Hypochondriac’s Guide to Hypochondria.
Honestly, I’m offended.
For a really long time, I committed my life to what I saw as the pursuit of perfection.
You know, the very first time someone floated the idea that I might have OCD to me, my reaction was “and have you seen the state of my house right now?”.
Hi! I’m Louise, and I’m an asshole.
The Cutprice Guignol 