Some people might think, that only because I’ve been on crazy meds for the last 16 years and I don’t blog much about my OCD, everything must be A OK… but it’s not. Every fucking day, I worry about my wife, daughter, son or dog dying. I try to keep my mind busy to stop the thoughts, but that’s also fucking stressing and demanding. I’ll tell you, when it comes to my OCD, there are good days, bad days and worst days. But those were the cards that I was dealt with when I came into this rock we call earth.