the first page

i always start a new notebook
with a certain amount of hesitation,
a certain fear
of not making the book neat enough,
of not having it organised and well put together,
of not being able to make it into another marvel.
and if the first page doesn’t turn out to be
as expected,
i rip it apart
without giving my compulsive action
a second thought.
i suddenly feel like doing the same
with this new one.
but since i have so much to talk about
i just can’t stop writing.
my fear of being imperfect
also compels me to write with a pencil.
i don’t want to leave a mark anywhere
by mistake.
i have been writing with a pencil
since the beginning of this year.
there have been some insecurities
some what-ifs
always.
that also becomes a reason
to confine someone who is fixated upon something
from talking about it
“what if the other person ends up laughing at me?”
“what if he/she doesn’t consider me normal?”
what is the definition of ‘normal’ anyways?
i know for myself
that certain things I do
are normal for me.
i know that i am
‘normal’ for myself.
but seeing my actions,
others sometimes disagree
with my understanding of myself.
why is that so?

i am going to try my best
to clearly express
what I have been going through lately.
doing the research on obsessions
or obsessive compulsive disorder,
makes me feel good.
it assures me
that i am not the only one.
there are people worse than me
existing happily.

lately
I have been watching a lot of
movies and videos related to the idea.
i have been reading upon it
reading upon similar
‘disorders’
(I am still in search of the right word)
like tourette’s syndrome, trichotillomania,
autism, schizophrenia, coprolalia, hoarding.
they are all different
but also similar in certain ways.

reading up on the you tube comments
helps in giving me that feeling of reassurance
from people around the globe.
it makes a difference to the one who is obsessed
Sometimes i feel like just going out to people
and listening to their stories,
to what they have to say.
because as we move ahead in time,
i realise the importance of relationships.
i understand that no one has time to
stop by and patiently listen.
we are all human beings
trying to make the most
of what we have around us,
and we all have opinions
but what we don’t have
are a pair of ears
that would
just listen.
especially to people
who are made to believe
that they have a disorder,
even if they actually don’t.

that is when insecurities develop.

in all the movies and videos that i watch,
i see a bit of myself.
it satisfies and
comforts me.
sometimes
it enhances my obsessions.
some other times
it just makes me realise
the irrationality and unimportance
of my obsessive actions.
it has also made me dig into my past
and given me the courage to talk about it
more openly.