Content Warnings: mention of suicide, obsessive/compulsive tendencies, religion
I have multiple kinds of paranoia.
The first one is related to God.
It started when I was young, since I grew up Catholic—being told I was horrible but that God still loves me.
To this day, I feel like God is disappointed in me.
Like he is watching, he hates me. I know it.
I feel so guilty—I don’t know why—but I feel horrible.
It is a constant feeling of dread.
It gets worse when I feel exposed, showers being borderline impossible without feeling insecure.
If I am doing something, almost anything, I feel guilty.
The only time I feel like I am okay is when I am working.
If I am relaxing, I am being lazy.
If I am eating, I am fat.
If I use the bathroom, I am slow.
If I am going somewhere, I am trying to run away from my problems.
Then, there is just the feeling of danger.
If my door is unlocked, I can’t sleep.
If a window blind is open, I can’t sleep.
If I don’t have my knife, I can’t go anywhere.
If my location isn’t shared, I can’t go anywhere.
If I haven’t looked through all the cabinets, I can’t relax.
If I haven’t checked all the closed areas, like closets, I can’t relax.
If there is a sound that I can’t identify, I will panic and hide.
I can’t take a shower until I have checked everywhere and locked all the doors.
Even if the bathroom is in my room, I have to lock the door to the room and to the bathroom.
I don’t remember exactly when it started, but I noticed my pattern when I was 12.
Which if anything only made it worse.
I would make lists,
Check times,
Struggle to sleep,
Have nightmares of being hurt or kidnapped almost every night.
I never grew out of my fear of the dark,
I am afraid of the deep ocean,
I am afraid of swimming in lakes or rivers,
The worst thing about those fears is that I live in Florida, which is a peninsula.
The last kind of paranoia is close to the second, but it has different conditions for me to feel okay.
Like I have to have my first aid kit, wipes, a multitool, and tissues.
I have a bag that has all of these items that is now called my ‘emotional support bag’.
It was a joke at first, but now when I don’t have it I get nervous.
I need to know how to do CPR, and every month I will test my knowledge on it.
I do the same thing with what to do if someone is having a seizure, or choking.
I have to know most first aid.
Like how to stop bleeding, how to make a makeshift bandage, and how to disinfect.
While these are good things to know, I will randomly test myself.
If I can’t remember the steps exactly, I will hate myself for at least a week.
For that week I will also constantly test myself.
Using flashcards,
Drawings,
Videos,
And classes
Until I think I have finally memorized it well enough.
I know exactly when this paranoia started.
It is the day I learned my mom had a stroke.
She had been chronically ill for a while…
Going to Mayo Clinic,
Getting a service dog,
And needing multiple specialists.
But that was the day it finally clicked,
My mom will never be as healthy as she was when I was little.
She would never be able to keep up with me.
To this day, I can’t guarantee she can make it to my high school graduation.
While that can be said of anyone, there is a certain anger that also comes with it.
My sister had mom at her graduation before her stroke.
My sister had both Nana and Papa at her graduation, and now their health has declined.
My sister didn’t see my Step Dad struggling to make money and becoming someone different from lack of sleep.
My sister didn’t have to see my Aunt struggle so badly that we are worried she will kill herself.
I hate my sister, I really don’t hate her, I would go to hell and back for her.
I just wish I could have the life she did.
