My Favourite Colour Is Red

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Now I get it. Now I understand. I'm just a 'normal' man on the wrong side of forty who wishes he could speak to the boy, teenager and young man who once stood in his shoes, screaming in silence. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). They didn't get it. They didn't understand. They suffered because of it. If, by the end of my story, you 'get' it and 'understand' OCD, I will have achieved what I set out to do. I will have saved you time; the time that the OCD bully on my shoulder cost me over thirty years. The bully, the influencer, the encouraging sidekick to my OCD Superhero. These days, most people will have heard of OCD. This is a huge improvement on the 1980s when I grew up. But it is still misunderstood. For those still finding their way, and for anyone who is unfamiliar with OCD, I explain in my book how the condition has affected my life in so many ways and why, in a post-COVID world, my concern for people like me is inextricably linked to why my favourite colour is red. It doesn't have to be a miserabble story. In fact, I insist that it isn't. But at the heart of my book lies the truth- my truth -about OCD.