A week or so ago I went to McDonald’s with my family and subsequently ordered a quarter pounder. When I got it, I noticed the same thing that had put me off a previous dinner the other night. Some gooey, shiney, glue-like, beef fat or something. Okay that wasn’t the most scientific of definitions and I’m fairly certain most of those adjectives were fueled by my OCD, but my point however is that the slimey, brown greese or fat has been stuck in my head for days to the point of nausea.
I feel ill just thinking about it. My mind won’t stop replaying my memories of having this in my food. Conjealed fat is causing me to want to scream and cry and that is less than ideal.
Sometimes it feels like I can’t concentrate. I can’t think. I had spent all of one morning on my school iPad trying to find out what it is, problem being that my search history is immovable and It feels like since I’ve logged onto my Google account at least once on said school iPad, the badness of the conjealed fat is infecting all of my accounts, possessions and life. It sounds over-dramatic when I say that, but it still doesn’t change the fact that some part of me believes it.
I was tired, I know this. Out of the 48 hours leading up to that day that this started, I’d probably only slept 10 of them and even those were restless. As I’ve stated before, I need to be fully functional in order to cope with life. I have to be well-rested and not hungry or overfed to manage socially and mentally. Most people will state that they need the same, but most people get moody when hungry or tired – I have a breakdown.
So what to I do? Wait it out? Wait until the feelings that my school iPad is contaminating my online life via some burger related google searches are over? Ignore the nausea and upset that has plauged me since this latest intrusive thought has began? Question those around me if they have experienced conjealed fat in their burgers in a desperate attempt to assure the bullied little girl inside of me that she isn’t on her own and is accepted? The answer is I wish I knew.
Part of me feels like including this in my blog will contaminate and ruin it but if I don’t post it then I’m just feeding into my compulsions and that is something that I do not want to do anymore.
The very thought of publishing this post containing this horrific intrusion is enough to make me want to pass out, which of course is exactly why I need to do it.