Paranoia

So, I occasionally have mild bouts of paranoia.  I say ‘mild’ because I’m aware that it’s ridiculous while it’s happening, but I am genuinely freaked out.

And my paranoia comes in two flavors.

1.) The world is going to end and we are all going to starve!  WE’RE GOING TO STARVE.  We must hoard food and cooking supplies and bottles of water and shoes!  And refuse to let my husband eat out of the pantry because END OF THE WORLD.  (Fortunately he ignores me and does it anyway all while expansively rolling his eyes.)

2.) People are watching me.  They’re going to break in.  We’re going to die.  Lock the doors!  Turn off the lights!  Check the doors again!  Check my husband’s pulse in case he somehow died next to me in his sleep!  (Get swatted by annoyed trying-to-sleep husband.)  Everyone is going to die!  My mom and dad might have died, so I have to call them even though it’s 2am.  Is my husband still breathing?  WAS THAT A NOISE?!? ZOMG!

Both are equally irrational and immensely annoying to my long suffering husband.  But fortunately, while I often have anxiety on these topics, I rarely have full blown freak outs.  Which is good because I’m pretty sure my husband can only handle so much excitement.  *smile*