As far as my mental health is concerned, I’m in the “it gets worse before it gets better” ideology.
The pending full-time disability status really got my OCD going today. I worked myself raw to clean clean clean. To make sure I had every “perfect” tools from Target to make the sink shine, and floor look pretty, and the wood be gorgeous, and the dust just magic itself away.
Looking back, I get it. My brain is telling me that maybe, just maybe if I have the perfect home inside, I can make my outside life perfect too. I could go back to work, be the best employee possible etc etc etc.
Except … Except right now I’m sick and I need help.