Closet OCD

We've all joked about having OCD whenever we, control freaks, have to explain that we like things a certain way. Our way. And so I find myself thinking lately, with my newly acquired spare time, if I have, like a pinky full of OCD. But please, hear me out.

At odd times, I find myself counting in my head. I don't understand, but just counting. I don't know if it's found a spot in my routine life and become a force of habit now, because I like to go to the gym regularly and it has to do with counting reps.

Or, the reason I like going to the gym is because of the constant repetition and the counting of consecutive numbers.

I always come out so zen-like, so of a calming and balanced me-like person. Me, who is so multifaceted, I become a calmed and balanced, normal, version of myself. It obviously has something to do with the natural endorphin release, but I've been thinking, is it because I've just gotten done with a major, major, counting session of breathing within my mind and body?

But if anything, it calms my always buzzing and anxiety ridden nerves. My body is like an empty cave with emotionally anxious thoughts, constantly swarming within itself because the swarm has no where else to go, since it's trapped. It's my own DNA.

Yet, when I leave the gym. I come to a ready conclusion that, I'm filled. My usual empty self is filled and content with life.

Pretty amazing what some things can do and where thoughts can lead you to and through different thought process avenues.

Anyway, I just needed to put it down. This is incredible though, I haven't written in so long. My inside joy is incandescent. But that's how it happens: all at once, like a sudden deluge that won't stop pouring out; or nothing at all, like a starved mind lacking the right words and the electricity to function.

Well, good night and cheers lovers.