Manic Obsessive Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Also, write on your piece of paper your major and the number on your seat, but not your name. This will keep your responses confidential while allowing us to correlate all of the data to make it useful. I’m working on a new study, and you’re the mice in the maze. Also, I hope you enjoy the seat you are in, because it’s your seat for the entire term. To gather good data, I need it to be consistent.” “I guess that makes us psych buddies,” Noah says with a slight grin, nudging my shoulder with his. It’s just a light touch, but the pressure sparks fire straight to my core. Down libido. I own you—you don’t own me. “Just as long as you know we'll never be fuck buddies,” I say. He frowns. DING! Gr

"Jensen has a personality disorder" "What?" "I don't know how he does it. But, he's so manipulative and he doesn't let anyone see it. He was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder when he was a teen and I only discovered it by accident"

Glancing up from his file, I asked, "Would you like to tell me what brought you here today, Mr. Aiden?" "I think I have obsessive-compulsive disorder," he admits. "Oh wow. That must have been tough for you to admit." He nods, "Believe me, Doc. It is." I scribbled down this newfound information about my patient in his file. "What kind of obsession do you have?" I asked. "Is it towards an object or—" "It's towards a person," he interrupts. I quirked my brow. "A person? Could you kindly elaborate in detail?"

The rays of the sun almost blinded my eyes causing me to wince in pain and mutter a cuss under my breath. "Sorry. That is why I always make sure to go anywhere with a pair of sunglasses." Francis tucked his hands into his pocket and handed me his sunglasses. I flashed him a grateful smile and hastily put them on. Francis' mood swings needed to be studied, one moment he could be playing good grandfather and the next he could be very angry and strict, I think that is exactly what makes everyone scared of him, they do not always know when to predict his mood or read his mind. We made our way into the hospital and a few people in the hallways greeted Francis respectfully, they probably recognize

I point out, arching an eyebrow. "No, but I'm obsessed. Maybe I'm not addicted to alcohol, but I am addicted to work. You said it yourself, remember? I'm a workaholic. I don't have anything else. I worry I wouldn't be able to fix myself, and I wouldn't be around for much."

Then, she turned to address him somberly, “You have obsessive tendencies and I’m far too stubborn—the both of us would only anger each other. I suggest you think about it before you delude yourself into believing we could ever work out.” There was a certain truth to her words that even Matthias could not deny. He did have strong obsessive tendencies that bordered on a personality disorder, but he had always brushed those off as part of his character. He remembered Evan urging him to see a therapist but he had unfortunately paid no heed to that suggestion, either.

UNKNOWN Smack..."If I can't have her, then no other person will get her." Obsession is misunderstood by most people; some think it’s chaotic. Messy. Uncontrolled. It’s not. Not when it’s done right. When it’s real and it’s precise. Careful. Patient. It watches. Learns. Waits and most importantly It chooses.

"You should never dream of other men. Don't you dare say that to me. I am the only one who is allowed to say those things to you. You should never ever dream of being with someone else other than me. Do you understand?" What is with this obsessive nature of his? Does he have a bipolar disorder? One moment he doesn't want me because I'm unworthy of being with him, and the next moment he thinks I should never look at other men or think of them. What is this situation I've gotten myself into?

"Don't! Don't make noises, and Don't panic,'' I warned them. We stood back to back in an attacking position. I was the oldest one here. All three of us were omegas. And I couldn't even shift properly. I wasn't even sure if I could use the pack link or not. " June, Cathy, try to use the pack link and ask for help." "I'm trying already. Seems like we are not in the range anymore," Cathy said. June was already terrified. She was almost trembling. Cathy was on the verge of crying as well. "We can't make it like this," I told them. "You two need to listen and calm down." But nothing was helping. They were getting more and more panicked. The appearances were becoming visible quickly.

I imagine her name is Isabelle. Isabelle, it's soft, and it's light. If I observe the elegance of her step, I see the lightness in it, that of someone who has left their worries at the office. A wild thought comes to me. Could Isabelle be unfaithful to her man? A small, nothing but mini infidelity of nothing at all. It would be a nice one but quickly forgotten because her man is waiting for her at home. Would she feel guilty like the regrets that gnaw at me? But basically, if I analyze: why have remorse? What are they here for? It was me the day before. I don't think it was a dream. It was my hands that were playing with this new body. I could not have dreamed of a better moment. Or if so, c