Whenever I see pictures of myself now, I don’t see me. My face looks empty. It’s like I don’t exist in a physical form anymore. It explains the way I’ve been feeling lately, like I’m not really here, like I’m just a whisper of a person. A whisper of who I used to be. Like I’m screaming to be heard, and all they hear is the breeze. I always feel like I’m fighting to earn my presence, to convince myself that I deserve to be here. And that curtain that is separating me from my life, that curtain is OCD.
Sometimes I feel like I disappeared too; I lost my self when I lost her.
Obsessive Compulsive Diary 
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