I wake up. Morning is the best time, I’m thinking clearly, I’m in a good mood, everything is okay. But then I go into the bathroom, and there I hit my first stumbling block- the thought that someone is watching me. Either through a hidden camera, or somebody hiding in the walk-in closet, I fear that some pervert is watching me pee.
Moving on to breakfast. Usually nothing more than coffee, I don’t get hungry in the morning most days. Nothing too bad there, though if my mother is up I might think she’s mad at me for some reason, even though she’s given no outward signs. I then spend a while on the computer, maybe I’ll sew something, pretty good there. Though I’m careful what I say online, the NSA is keeping track of us, after all.
Then, I go out, usually to see my boyfriend. Driving is a bit worrisome, I watch out for anything getting ready to jump into the road, and I make sure if I’m talking to myself that I stop when I pass a car going the other way, so they don’t see me doing it. I get to my boyfriend’s house, and spend some time with him.
As the day progresses, things start to degrade. I start to suspect my boyfriend of cheating on me, of laughing at me behind my back. I never voice these thoughts, for fear of having them confirmed. Better to just remain silent and maintain the illusion that everything is okay. I make sure to be careful what we talk about, certain there are microphones listening in for certain keywords that’ll get us arrested for conspiracy.
Dinner, then. If we go out, I try to hide my discomfort, surrounded by other customers. They’re all staring at me, whispering to each other about me, about the freak. I eat, I keep a cheerful facade, even though my boyfriend knows I’m uncomfortable. I insist on going out, I refuse to hide indoors. I make sure to be extra polite to the servers, lest they spit in my food, or worse.
Then we spend some more time together. He can distract me from my thoughts for a while, he’s good at that, but they always come creeping back in. If we have sex, I’m worried he’s not enjoying it, he’s not attracted to me, all my insecurities hissing ugly sentiments into my mind.
I rarely spend the night. I can’t sleep if I’m with him, I lie awake listening to him breathe, terrified that those regular breaths will stop. So usually I go home. Driving at night is the worst. Hallucinations litter the roadside, little creatures that dart across the road and disappear, monsters lurking in the shadows.
If somebody is driving behind me, I’m sure it’s a cop. If they make several of the same turns that I do, now I’m sure they’re following me, not a cop but a serial killer, to follow me to my home and chase me down and steal me away to torture and rape and murder me.
I make it home safe, and run to the door, fearful that a creature is waiting in the darkness, ready to pounce. I scrabble for the knob, and make it inside, certain that there was something just behind me. Once inside, I take my meds, unwind with some more computer time, trying to make sense of my head, which by now is spinning and buzzing with stray thoughts and sounds. Usually I’m coherent these days, like now, able to identify paranoid thoughts and put them down in text. Then, once the meds kick in and start to knock me out, bed time.
And then I repeat the process the next day.
I know I have it relatively easy, my delusions are fairly mundane and manageable, but I felt that I should share it with the forums. Also, there is a lot more that doesn’t happen daily, but still often, like thinking my friends are plotting against me, or that my family is going to throw me out onto the streets. Some days I actually can go through almost the whole day without worrying or suspecting anything, though they’re rare. It’s better now with the new meds, but specifically the paranoia has lingered.