My paranoia runs through my veins, up my spine, and down my legs. It gives me goosebumps, throws chills down my throat, and makes the hair on my arms stand erect. It leaves me numb, senseless, paralyzed.
My stomach becomes tight-knitted; my heart trembles. My hands freeze; bloodshot eyes water; pulse plummets; legs quiver too often.
Breaking into a cold sweat, fidgeting with my rings, feet bouncing uncontrollably, mind racing, thoughts scrambling. Face reddening, my paranoia is not uncommon to me; I know her too well. More than what I’d like to.
Some days, I wake from my slumber with the natural alarm of paranoia echoing into my subconscious. I wake up, shivering with hundreds of self-made scenarios, which bombard my mind. Immediately, stress takes over; my mind becomes a messy cauldron of unwanted emotions which spill out of my body’s crevices. My emotions are judged, my face paled.
Why me? Is it the way I overthink each step I take or is it the way I feel for everyone, who gives me even the slightest of attention? Why am I the one with the messed-up childhood and why does the trauma of it all keep coming back to me like old memories, one by one, slowly. Is it to torture me into insanity?
“Paranoid for what? It’s not a big deal.”says the one with the biggest friend group, the best grades, no body image issues or mental health struggles. It’s okay though; it’s not a big deal.
Paranoia, in a way, is my best friend. She’s always there when I need her. She seeps into every conversation, every relationship, every opportunity that I’ve ever had. She’s always there. Even when my headphones are worn and the world is turned off, she’s still there. You could say she’s my soulmate. “She’d never let you go, not even after seeing all of your past, and predicting all of your future.” I want her to leave me alone though. I want her to move far, far away. If I could banish her, I would. What’s holding me back, you ask? Oh, it’s just something you call paranoia. She’salways there.
But oh, the places I’d go without her constantly hovering over me like a shadow of despair. The friends I’d make, the foods I’d eat, the sceneries I’d experience.
Mouth quivering, face blotting, hair falling, chest breaking. Breath falling short, eyes unfocused, skin acting up, nails chipping. I’m no stranger to paranoia.
-Siya Modi AS-C
Another Level Higher 