Dear Reader,

I don’t know how I’m going to be a functioning adult living in the real world. And it’s not just because I get anxious on most phone calls (and even going through drive-thrus for that matter) or because I can’t keep my room clean or because I still get help from my parents when it comes to things like doing my taxes or opening jars of spaghetti sauce.

It’s because I’m scared.

Of everything.

I’m constantly paranoid. I always jump to conclusions and scare myself beyond anything rationable. Maybe I just watch too much TV or maybe it’s my vindictive vivid imagination at work, but it’s a pain because I can’t help it. It’s stupid, but I can’t help it. So I’ve decided to outline some of the stupid things I’ve thought and done because of my absurd paranoia.

Things I Have Done:

  • believed I was pregnant, on two different occasions, before ever having sex
  • cried while playing the piano because every song reminded me of my sister and I currently thought she was dying because she was in the hospital for something minor
  • called the police when I was in seventh grade because I was home alone and thought someone was in my house but it was really just snow. (I might elaborate on this story another time because it’s actually ridiculous)
  • thought, when a car drove by: They have a gun. I’m the only one on this street. And they’re going to shoot me. I’ll just be the random casualty of the day. (this happens quite frequently)
  • when my parents were late coming home from a movie the other night, and the weather was terrible, believed that they surely had gotten into an accident and died, and Sean, Sarah and I would have to move home and try to support each other as orphans
  • called friends, on multiple occasions, freaking out because I heard noises in my house
  • believed that me/my house/someone in my house was being haunted by a bad spirit (this one was fortunately debunked later, or else it would still surely keep me up at night)
  • woke up my parents because I was crying about the inevitability of death and the possibility of the nonexistence of God
  • had a panic attack during a shower for the same reason
  • believed that I was going to get shot while seeing a movie in my hometown

And then we have today:

  • heard creepy music from the basement (specifically the flutey music that plays in those western films when the tumbleweed blows through), grabbed my dog, got in the car, and left my house because I was sure a serial killer was going to murder me and the music was for his (or her–I don’t want to promote stereotypes) own sadistic pleasure.
  • later I returned and decided to investigate (with my dog by my side) and discovered that it was the ringtone of a phone left by one of my dad’s friends from the night before.
  • the irony? this incident interrupted the video I was filming today–a video where I was dancing in every room, singing until I was screaming, and talking to myself as loudly as I can because I was demonstrating how wonderful it is when you have the house to yourself

So let’s recap. I live in a very safe community in the suburbs of Ohio and I go to a school in the middle of nowhere where the crime rate is relatively low and the closest city is forty minutes away where I have irrational thoughts like these on a day-to-day basis. Yet I have dreams of moving to New York City or possibly working in inner city schools or even traveling the world alone.

The foreseeably problematic future is not lost on me.

In the (paraphrased) words of Mindy Kaling (I’ll find the real quote later): It’s disappointing when our aspirations aren’t matched with our abilities.





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