OCD is exhausting. Dermatillomania is damaging. Sometimes at night I fall into an OCD possession and after some time I am able to tell myself “just go to bed, Kim.” And I go to bed. I wake up the next day and it’s as if I am another person; someone who is not inflicted with uncontrollable compulsions. That’s not to say that the damage isn’t there. It’s there to varying degrees depending on how much self-control I was able to exert the night before. But I wake up mostly feeling lighter, not yet burdened with the day’s baggage. This morning, however, I woke up feeling as if nothing had changed from the night before. It was as if everything had just been placed on pause only toresume again exactly as is was once the sun came up again.